


THE WAY

by InsaneMuse



Series: THE WAY [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Bacta (Star Wars), Black Character(s), Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon Character of Color, Canon-Typical Violence, Carbonite Freezing (Star Wars), Cold Weather, Dadalorian, Depression, Din Djarin Needs A Nap, Din Djarin hates the cold, F/M, Female Character of Color, Force-Sensitive Original Character(s), Gen, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, Hostage Situations, Immobility, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), ManDadlorian, Memory Loss, Non-Jedi Force Use (Star Wars), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Character of Color, POV Din Djarin, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Protective Din Djarin, References to Depression, Reminiscing, Shock, Temporary Amnesia, grogu in goggles, jedicicle trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneMuse/pseuds/InsaneMuse
Summary: Din Djarin works alone, but when you are the sole caretaker of a 50 year old Force Sensitive Toddler...Sometimes you have to bend, before you break...
Relationships: Din Djarin/Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Series: THE WAY [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148090
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. THE PADAWAN

**Author's Note:**

> Begins after THE MANDALORIAN Season 2 Chapter 13: The Jedi.  
> Some chapters will take place in between show Episodes, and some will overlap. In this story several months can pass between chapters or it can be right before or after show episodes. Will be indicated in Notes of each individual chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no neutral way around it. Despite best efforts at having no opinion on the matter at all Din Djarin absolutely…unequivocally….hated ice worlds.   
> He hated them with a passion unbridled.   
> Without fail, every single time he landed on one within the past year, something went wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place Between THE MANDALORIAN Season 2 Chapter 13: The Jedi & Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

There was no neutral way around it. Despite best efforts at having no opinion on the matter at all Din Djarin absolutely…unequivocally…. ** _hated_** _ice worlds._ _  
  
_ ** _He hated_** them with a passion unbridled.

Without fail, every single time he landed on one within the past year, something went wrong.

If it wasn’t a system failure on the Crest, it was a greater than usual problematic bounty.

If it wasn’t deadly Ice Spiders, it was the sheer unpleasant frigid temperatures that turned his beskar into a conduit for the biting chill that would seep into his under layers and make his limbs feel 10 times heavier.

Factor that in with the fact that his kid apparently couldn’t stay still today…

“Grogu…” his modulator crackled somewhat as he caught up, the difference of external and internal temperature made it work harder to pick up his voice.

The little one in question looked back at his Buir with ears perking upward, his dark wide eyes were currently hidden by a pair of retrofitted goggles. They were overly large but Din had managed to secure them after a bit of a fight. The Sun reflected blindingly off of the snow on this planet. Anyone unprepared would find themselves with possibly burnt retinas.

At 1st the kid didn’t leave them alone, but after a bit of a struggle Din took him outside. The glaring brightness stopped the little one from trying to pull them off again.

Despite the coverings Din could tell the look he was getting was an attempt to appear angelic.

He wasn’t fooled one bit.

“Don’t eat that” he warned, shaking a gloved finger. He hoped it held a tone of firmness, because even to his own ears it sounded as amused as he felt. To his credit Grogu’s hands lowered as if to actually drop it. Though Din’s head turned back towards where he was keeping watch, his eyes stayed on the child. Just as he suspected, Grogu slowly started to raise the object back towards his mouth. Din waited until right before he took a taste to point a finger back at Grogu uttering only a “No”.

This time the thing was dropped with a tiny begrudging huff. After a moment though something else caught the little one’s attention and Din felt ok to turn his attention back to his surroundings.

He huffed a frustrated sigh, again. If there was one thing he hated more than the cold and ice, it was unnecessary interruptions when he had a schedule.

It’d been a while since he had considered Grogu’s day to day needs as interruptions, and even longer since they had seemed unnecessary.

Long ago shifting from simply meeting the kid’s basic requirements, and slotting in things with more complexity into his docket as best as he could.

This still left a lot to be desired. Both because it drew out any Bounty he took or errand he had to run, but also because balancing everything meant that Din could not take all the time he wished to enrich the life of the child.

Part of that admittedly was less about available time in a week, and more about his sheer ineptitude in parenting.

He tried, _he did,_ but there was only so much he could do while maintaining a highly active Bounty Hunter lifestyle.

More than once Din found himself battling internally over the idea of hiring help.

On one hand, Grogu was **_his_** charge and the effort it would take simply to find someone trustworthy enough felt monumental to even just think out. But finding someone he could rely on to both handle Grogu ( _magic wizard Jedi powers and all),_ to keep up when needed and simultaneous stay out of the way.

The beings he trusted to watch Grogu for even very short amounts of time were counted on a single hand.

None of them could simply pick up and travel on a cramped ship bound for a life of galactic Jai-alai.

On another hand, Grogu was a handful even on his best days. Not only that, he was still so young, and deserved more than the bare minimum of care. He deserved enrichment and all the things Din believed were owed to a child. Even a _mischievous_ _Wizard-in-training Womp rat adopted by a Mandalorian for the foreseeable future._

Din sighed again. Patience long since lost as he looked at his chronometer.   
  


This informant was late.

He hated late too. Loathed it. _  
  
_Late meant that he would have less time to actually hunt. Less time to hunt meant he had to take less time to prep, plan and to see to Grogu’s care.

But often was the way things went in this line of work. He would wait 10 minutes more.

A flash caught his eye for the 100th time. But just as before it was simply an effect of the light off of the snow. It had him on edge since he arrived on this Maker forsaken Ice-ball.

Ten minutes came and went and he stifled another sigh, his steps making a soft crunching sound beneath his heavy boots as he turned to put Grogu back in his sights.

A moment of panic caused his heart to skip a few beats. Where the child should be, there was an indentation only.

“Kid?” He said turning and freezing for a moment before his mind caught up with his view, how the Maker was he moving so fast and where was he going…

“Ehh?” Din tensed and then released a breath at the sound. Grogu now standing below him, reaching for his boot. He was on edge, and how quietly the little one could move got the better of him.

Hands on his hips he looked down at the bundle of brown and green.

“Alright Buddy, seems this contact is a bust” Din tilted his helmet down at the bug-eyed goggles looking back up to him. A huff that could be a laugh left his vocoder

“Lets go" he reached down to scoop Grogu up, allowing a blaster bolt to pass overhead, missing by millimeters only.

His blaster was in his hand and aimed before his next breath.

“Kriff” Din muttered kneeling fully down to act as a shield to protect the child, and just as his knee hit the slushed snow several shots pinged off of his beskar causing him to grunt in pain.

Now he was _pissed_.

Aiming for **him** was one thing, but he had no doubt that the angle they were shooting was more than a coincidence. And speaking of coincidences, the puck in his pouch began to sound as the shots seemed to get closer.

_Maybe today wouldn’t be such a bust after all._

In one movement he scooped Grogu into his free arm, and rotated his upper body to face where he guessed some of the shots were coming from and calculated how many were shooting.

It was 3 or 4, and thankfully his aim was true when he heard the tell tale shout of someone in pain and then a muffled thud.

Alzoc III was mostly ice, but there were clusters of Fir trees. In a small clearing on a slope that was surrounded by some of these plants is where the Crest was parked. They weren’t a forest by any means, but it was enough that it made a quick count of possible attackers difficult. Being wise in experience means you know when to fight and when to run, and when you had your hands full of a curious 50 year old toddler, _you ran_.

Deciding to use the sparse foliage the same way his attackers were. He picked his way through the trees, shots ricocheting off of snow and bark as we went. Din’s strong legs ate up ground, even uphill as he made his way to the safety of his ship.

The top of the tree-line came quickly into view and he focused on that until the ground literally gave out beneath him.

The fall felt endless until it wasn’t. With a thud he hit the ground back 1st, but was luckily cushioned from the worst damage by a gathering of snow. 

The breath was momentarily knocked from him all the same, staring up into the opening of the sinkhole he’d fallen through. _Because his back didn’t give him enough problem._

“Birrrrr” Grogu vocalized after a moment, perched on Din’s chest, patting his cuirass affectionately with a chubby clawed hand. When he finally found he could inhale, he lifted his helmet and the child simultaneously with a grunt, holding him out to better look at him.

“Did you just say…” the thought wasn’t finished as the shadow of someone above was the only warning to move he got before more shots rang out. Cradling Grogu in his arm again he rolled away from the circle of light and into the shadow, barely avoiding several blaster bolts hitting where he’d just been.

“Stay here kiddo” Din whispered as he careful placed Grogu behind what appeared to be a long outcropping of stone, it created enough cover to make him satisfied that the kid would be ok there.

Sliding to press his back against what seemed to be another, much taller slab of stone Din began to weight his choices. His mind was moving a mile a minute going through options, so much so, that he didn’t notice Grogu move from his hiding spot.

Din’s head swiveled around to take in his surroundings. Where he fell seemed to be the center of a circular cavern of ice. There were fallen logs and snow littered about from the size of a small table to the size of a door. Oblong in shape, but with dark stone peaking through several of them.

“ _Where the Kriff are we_ ”he mused, listening best he could above to try and detect how many assailants he could expect.

Before he could really take a full look at the maybe-stone shapes littered about another sound caught his attention again, resonating like the creaking of ice over a pond. He adjusted his grip on his blaster, steading his breath and slowly inched out from behind his hiding spot. His helmet picking up more shuffling sounds above, and he could guess exactly what it was.

The split second the shadow of a figure appeared above him, he took the shot. His aim was true, and his instincts correct, the pained sound from his target stopped almost as quickly as it started. Then the whooshing sound of fabric through air was ended with the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.

He waited a bit longer to listen and heard no other sounds from above, only his shadow cast over the body as he shot it onece more for good measure.

The initial hit though was right through the glass of one of his shades, and so it was probably literal overkill, but better safe than sorry.

Din wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed at his lack of surprise, or annoyed at how much sooner he should have predicted the outcome.

At his feet lay the lifeless body of a Kessurian male. Mottled red skin of its face framed by his montrals.

He could have guessed his alleged _informant_ was actually his bounty. He’d considered it off course, but it was best to take the bait either way.

And sure enough, his prediction of 3-4 shooters also turned out to be somewhat true. Kessurian’s had 4 arms. And in 3 of his arms were gripped 3 different types of blasters. The 4th arm likely held a blaster as well, knocked out when he was initially shot by Din. ( _The wound on his shoulder all but proved that_ ).

“Well Kid, looks like we are ahead of schedule now….” Din finally realized how quiet it still was when he finished removing the blasters from the dead Bounty.

“Kid?…Grogu?….” Din hurriedly strode to where he had placed the child.

To his chagrin where he should be, in the Childs place was the pair of discarded goggles.

_Dank Farrik, not again.  
_

“GROGU” Din’s voice echoed a bit in the chamber, but this time in response he got a familiar sound of some type of machinery.

It took his mind a second more to catch up, and when it did his hand moved before his body did. Swiping at one of the snow covered stone like formations.

Din took a step and it hit him all at once. Carbonite slabs, **_old ones._**

The one before came more into view as he wiped away at it with his gloved hands.

Outdated by at least 15 years, and still filled with a frozen captive. Though the systems had failed ages ago.

Seemed as if it was a type of cache. He moved to the next one and did the same. He realized that they were all just that. Carbonite slabs long forgotten.

And that’s when the understanding of the sound he just heard hit him.

Deactivated Carb freeze.

“Ehhh!” Din visibly jumped when suddenly Grogu was back at his feet.

Adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the previous run and encounter.

“Damnit kid, you have to stop doing that” he scooped him up and quickly one handed, turning to where the footprints lead away.

Din looked down at his bundle of trouble, now pointing one puppy-fat finger in the direction he came and making a noise of contentment. He was looking up at him with a self satisfied tiny toothed smile.

“What did you do?”

This time Din refused to put Grogu down. He knew it was a risk, it always was to bring him. But as it often turned out to be, it was riskier to leave him to his own devices.

Blaster already trained ahead of him, he was taking no chances.

There was a small hollow further back where the sun didn’t reach. The temperature dropped quickly there, indicating it had been likely undisturbed for a long while

Tracing Grogu’s footprints in the dark was easy with his helmet, leading him to what appeared to be another set of long abandoned Carbonite slabs. The remnants of tech surprised him. Nothing was left, everything but the casings and empty shelves and cabinets had been removed, but it was obvious something had been here that probably shouldn’t have been.

Slightly to his right one of the slabs sensors blinked. But it was quickly apparent that it was empty.

At 1st he wondered if Grogu had simply pressed a button on an already empty slab.

That didn’t feel right though. He **_heard_** the tell tale sounds of a slab being released from freeze…

Something flashed past him hitting the wall to his left. But senses still on edge he didn’t fall for it. Instead he swiveled to the right, blaster leading and took a shot.

He was aiming low on whatever it was and evidenced by the muffled grunt and gasp he hit something.

Grogu made several distressed noises, squirming hard in Din’s arm.

“Sorry kid, sorry” he knew the blaster fire could be extra loud in a space that echoed. His helmet effectively muffled it, but sometimes he forgot how sensitive those big ears could be on the kid.

When Grogu didn’t calm down he looked down best he could to see why. Two small arms were stretched forward as if he was reaching for whatever Din just shot.

An animal perhaps?

Din took cautious steps forward, Grogu still squirming and making small huffing and wining noises.

“What is it Buddy?” Din asked confused until his sight screen adjusted from the Darkness of the cavern to the muted light of the bigger space.

Laying before him with a stain of red making a mark on the snowy ground was a humanoid figure.  
  
They seemed diminutive in stature, and their clothes were wholly nondescript. He shouldn’t feel compelled to stare, but he was having a hard time not.  
The 1st prominent attribute was the head of stark white hair, and he realized why this stood out was the brown skin it contrasted with.  
The clothing was strange in how out of place it was, an overlapping tunic and belt with loose style of pants and one damn shoe. When they rolled over, wincing and eyes tightly squeezed closed as they did, Din tensed even as their hands raised with palms up to show they had no weapon in them.  
The hint of faint lines laying across their cheeks and nose caught his attention next, some sort of markings, maybe even a type of tattoo. It was lighter than their skin, but not by much.

He was so thrown off by their singular appearance, hurrying slipped his mind completely.   
They groaned again and gripped their side suddenly drawing Din’s attention there and he was released from his static state.  
Blood was beginning to seep through their tunic _._

Their breathing was labored as they started to speak.

“It…was just…just a snow ball…to distract you” they panted and winced again.    
“…who are you” he asked, still unsure, so his blaster remained trailed on them all the same.

“A Jedicicle….” And to his utter confusion they laughed.  
They’d made a joke, bleeding out on the frozen ground of what was apparently a Carbonite graveyard, and they were making jokes.   
Tears were trickling out the corner of their still forcefully closed eyes, making Din realize that they might be suffering from Hibernation Sickness.   
The fact that they were incredibly under dressed for the frigid environment couldn’t be helping.

Din finally lowered his blaster, quickly trying to decide what to do. He had to get Grogu out safely, get his bounty back to the ship and then there was…. _them_.

For a moment he actually contemplated if he should leave them.

Not his 1st choice, but by the angle of the light coming in through the opening in the shattered ceiling…he was starting to loose sunlight.

“ _I’mmm sor…ry_ ”

He almost missed it, their voice sounding small even through his sensitive microphone. The words were clipped, stuttering teeth beginning to clatter uncontrollably. **_Kriff._**

“Hey….” he kneeled by them with the intention of picking them up. If he didn’t get them to the Crest and under a blanket soon that would be it for them for sure. Din reached out a gloved hand to pull back at the ruined fabric around their wound, and cursed again under his breath.  
He had another problem, he couldn’t be sure if the wound went through all the way, it could be why they were bleeding so much.  
He would have to check, and to check he would have to take a peak under their tunic.  
  
“I’m um…going to need to take a look” He prompted gripping the edge off one of the overlapping panels of their tunic. He got a nod and their bloodied hands fell away, so he took that as consent.

“Sor…sorry…need to to…take a nap forforror a bit…” they countered, body shaking violently now, but a slight smile on their lips.  
 _Great, they are delirious.  
_ Din pulled back at the front of the garment as quickly as he dared. The fabric peeled away slowly, adhering to the skin due to the blood saturating their whole side.  
The outline swell of a prominent breast was obvious now, hidden behind a band made of a darker fabric. Din sighed, thankful for the added layer of material, relieved if he didn’t have to infringe on a strangers privacy all the same.

Din sighed, it was as he thought and that wasn’t good.

“You need medical care” he stated firmly, about to explain that he would need to get them to his ship.  
  
Unsteadily their hands lowered back to their side, one on top of the other, and their breathing began to slow.

When it seemed it stopped all together, Din felt an inexplicable sense of panic.

He’d seen death, he’d been the **_cause_** of other’s death.

He didn’t even know their name, but he’d killed them and it sat like a rock in his stomach.

Suddenly Grogu’s wines and wiggling stopped, and he let out a little huff and then went back to the small content little growling sounds he usually made. As if none of this had happened and it was just another boring day.

 ** _  
_** ** _None of this made sense_**.

Din felt compelled to reach for their hand, to do…something.

But when his fingers touched against theirs, both hands fell away limply.He had to stare for a moment to process what he was seeing.

The singed hole through the tunic was there. The blood was still there, a large stain marring the fabric. But the wound, the hole his blaster had made was gone.

His hand moved to the junction of their chin and neck, and he checked for a pulse. Harder to do with gloves, but there it was. His hand shifted to lay flat across their sternum instead, and the rising and falling of breathing was there too.

**_Just like the kid_** ….

Though when Din held said womp-rat up the kid tilted his head and kicked his little legs contentedly under his robes. _So like the kid, but_ **_not_** _the kid._

He replaced Grogu’s goggles, then settled him on top of their prone form. Lifting both and securing them as tightly in his arms as he could, then he looked down at their blank face.

“Well Jedicicle…never a dull day”

And he activated his Jetpack to fly the 3 of you out of a literal hell hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alzoc III: Is a Cannon Ice planet in the Outer Rim Territories. The glare of the sun off the snow could become so blinding it could burn the retinas of unprotected eyes. Alzoc is home to Fir trees, Snow Slugs & the Sentient species the Talz.
> 
> Kessurian's: Sentient species native to Kessur. They have red-brown skin tones and montrals that help with spacial awareness. They are known to be adventurous and to have a wanderlust.


	2. THE HEALER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Turns out that maneuvering a jetpack with an unconscious body and a perpetually inquisitive toddler was a hasty life choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place directly after Chapter 1. Swaps from POV are separated.  
> Also, Din not assuming someone’s pronouns because he’s cool like that.

By the time Din landed in front of the Crest he silently swore to never do that shit again if he didn’t absolutely need to. Truthfully _they_ didn’t weigh much, and Grogu weighed almost nothing…but that wasn’t helpful when apparently Grogu thought it was a good idea to try and test Din’s hand eye coordination by tipping forward while trying to see below.

Of course Din caught him, but that didn’t stop his hands from shaking all the way until his boots touched down on the snow covered ground.

“Do me a favor kid, and don’t ever do that again”“…Ehh?” Din was about 99.9% sure his _Ad_ ’ understood him, at least thats what he chooses to think in order to sooth his nerves. His arms and back were aching by the time the ramp fully extended, and the chill was creeping through his many layers.

If _he_ was cold that meant Grogu was too, increasing the risk of catching a chill. The kid was resilient to every environment Din had ever exposed him to, but he felt this was pushing his luck.

Now came the real conundrum.

Din didn’t want to leave Grogu alone with _them_ , or leave _them_ alone on the Crest at all for that matter. But he had to choose one, so he strode up the ramp and carefully placed the self proclaimed _**Jedicicle**_ down on the floor of the ships hull. In the overhead lights of the crest he could get a better look at them. Even as he laid them down, _they_ hadn’t stirred & breathing seemed shallow as well which wasn’t promising. It wasn’t as clear through his helmet, but _they_ also appeared ashen even in his altered sight.

He remains kneeling next to them so he can get a better look at the markings, they were more extensive than he’d originally realized. In the artificial lights it took on a slight iridescent quality that shifted depending on the angle. Allowing himself to shift aside the hair covering their face was rewarded with the revelation of a crescent shape across their forehead. His thumb hovered over it, hesitating once and then twice before he allowed it to make contact with skin just above their brow. Part of him was sure the amber tips of his gloves would come away with proof it was some sort of face-paint.  
 _Nothing_ … _so a tattoo or branding perhaps_.  
  
Of all the species he’s come across in his multitudinous years as a Hunter, Din had never seen anyone quite like this. Humanoids came in every shape, color combination and size variations across the Galaxy… Lekku, claws, tentacles, wings, horns…you name it. Din thought he’d seen examples of them all, but apparently he’d been wrong. Finally ceasing his examination and deciding he’d have to leave them here for the time being, his thumb lingered over the waining crescent…  
None of this was exactly ideal, but it was necessary.

Rising off of his knees and standing to full height, the angles of his hands propped above his hips for a second before he formulated the quickest temporary solution. With a firm tug on his cape, it was freed with minimal effort. It would remove a layer of cold protection for himself, but was a sacrifice he was willing to make. That he laid over them quickly. With a single shoulder shrug of resignation, Din moved on as he was loosing the daylight.

Honestly there were other things he had to worry about more, like the the Ship being eaten by a cavernous Snow Slug or confrontations with other Bounty Hunters.

Turning back to re-open the ramp, he swiveled around to face the both of them again as it lowered, thinking to take the child with him after all.  
 _Well… **shit**_ …  
Grogu was already shuffled up under his cloak, with _them_. His little hands were patting on their chest and making noises that sounded like an attempt at being comforting.

Din let out a bemused huff of air, a sound sandwiched between amusement and uncertainty.

“Grogu…” he called, and the little one’s ears perked up attentively at his Buir.

Amusement bubbled further up under the lingering adrenaline. No matter how in the Zone Din was, the kid’s response to being called by name never got old.

“Stay…. _ **seriously**_ ” he said as firmly as he dared.

Time to get the bounty, and to get off this cursed icy hell hole.

Thankfully the remainder of his tasks were completed with no further extended interruptions, and in record time. Admittedly the fact that he’d left Grogu with a stranger ( _albeit an unconscious one_ ) helped to spur him to hurry.

Despite the need to get a move on, there was an abrupt but forceful compulsion to do a quick sweep of the cavern. Swiping at a few of the structures he realized they were mostly haphazardly covered empty and expired carbonite plaques. On closer surveying he noticed trashed wires and other debris. A chill not related to the frigid weather crawled up his spine. _None of this should be here_ , it reeked of Empire but he wasn’t sure what to do with this information as it was obviously long abandoned. Din hurried over to the space in the very back, finding the area unchanged. Satisfied and turning to leave, his boot kicked something propped in the corner which turned out to be a box he hadn’t noticed. Tipping it over caused something to fall out. It made a solid thunk and then a grinding sound as it rolled away. He kneeled down next to it, hand hovering just above hesitantly. The arrows on the top of his gloves seemed to point towards it, finally curiosity won over.

What he’d retrieved was a forearm length cylinder with swirled lines sprouting along the length of it. Clearly it was made mostly of metal, but also what appeared to be either bone or wood inlayed around the top and bottom sections. There was a single sliding switch on one side and a D-ring on the one end.

As he stood Din looked directly down into the opening, his thumb placed over the switch. Suddenly thinking better of it, he instead tilted the opening away from his helmet before toggling the switch. He was rewarded only with a distinctly electrical sputtering sound.

Din didn’t know why, but it felt significant and whatever compelled him to look around in the first place swayed him to take it with him. Hooking the thing onto his belt by the D-ring he hurried out.

Back in the main area Din kneeled again, and with a grunt hefted the body under one arm, activating his jetpack the moment he felt secure. Only a few more minutes passed between takeoff and reaching the ramp. The light was almost gone now, the temperature dipping with a quickness that spurred him to hasten his steps inside so he could place the Bounty in Carb freeze and secure the ship. He did so with practiced ease, causing several small motions to flow one into the other. He’d spared a look Grogu’s way on arrival, finding ( _to his relief_ ) they both were exactly where he’d placed them.

After securing the Bounty he checked on them both again on his way to the cockpit but froze at the sight of Grogu sleeping under his cloak…because it was **_only_** Grogu.

Din’s hackles shot up faster than a spooked Fathier, nearly as quick was the drawing of his blaster, but before he could even register the sensation of someone behind him he felt a numbness drain through from his shoulder and spread to his limbs.

The blaster unceremoniously clattered to the floor 2 seconds before he knocked to his knees. Din’s body felt anesthetized and useless, reminding him of the last craptastic run-in he had with Jawas. His legs were leaden and he wasn’t quite sure what was actually keeping him upright.

His breath was loud in his ears under the strain of his strange situation, but he registered another’s breathing just behind him.

“I’m sorry…I won’t keep you immobilized for long, I promise” the voice wasn’t as fraught as when he’d shot them earlier, though was still strained, words bordering on slurred.

“What…did you…do to me” he gritted out behind clenched teeth, feeling both like he was frozen and that he was about to teeter forward at any minute, giving him an overwhelming sense of vertigo. Something warm slithered from his right nostril and he felt it trail thickly down along the outer ridge of his philtrum, tickling his sparse mustache. By the time it came to a stop on the ridge of his upper lip he could smell the distinct metallic tang of blood. He swallowed reflexively and could taste it on the back of his throat.

“You don’t have a lot of time” _they_ uttered, “if I keep you like this too long you’ll pass out or worse…please…just listen” there was a pleading quality to their breathless request that he’d heard a million times from Bounties but it confused him. Whatever you’d done to him gave you control of the situation, why were _they_ still trying to negotiate?

“I’m going to release you…if you promise…to **not** freeze me again. Can, can you promise?” _They_ were beginning to sound as tired as he now was feeling. Din didn’t seem to have a lot of time to weigh his options, so instead he figured agreeing was the smartest route for now.

“Ok…”

“Swear it” the desperation was palpable now, and Maker help him, he was _intrigued_.

Spots were starting to dance in front of his eyes and he felt like he might pass out in a second, another warm roll of blood added to the trail now hitting his lips, he licked at it instinctually while his mind went to Grogu. The idea of him unconscious and his foundling at the mercy of a stranger with a strange ability forced a choice on him.

“You..Have…my **word** …” he forced out and almost instantly there was a pressure on his shoulder and with a rush of heat, sensation started to flood back. It was like when a limb wakes up after too little circulation. A sharp pins and needles and a buzzing sensation, but all over.

Din fell forward but with a grunt of exertion, his breath fast as if he’d run a mile. Took him another second to realize he’d slowed thanks to a pair of small shaking hands on both of his shoulders lowering him fully to the ground, the realization that _they_ had been holding him upright while simultaneously paralyzing him hit Din at the same time his helmet touched the ground.

Feeling was swiftly returning to his limbs, and he got his hands under him in a low push up position as they let go and he heard them move away. He’d thought _they_ would run for it, but instead they went the other direction & the movements stopped a few feet away.

As soon as he was able Din lifted his head to see where they relocated, making sure they were away from Grogu.

He found them sliding down against the adjacent wall of the hull, bottom hitting the metal floor with a pained grunt as if they couldn’t completely control themselves.

Both of their breaths were labored and that became a chorus to the silence for another minute.

“Thank…thank you” he would have imagined the words if he wasn’t eyeing them carefully and saw their lips forming the words. Their head then hit the wall and eyes slid closed.

Another minute or so and Din was able to pull himself to his feet and retrieve the dropped blaster. _They_ could have easily taken it, it was in reach, but they didn’t. Again an annoying spark of curiosity wrested him.

A soft coo alerted Din to Grogu now being awake, sitting up with his cape in his little lap like a blanket. He gazed up at Din with a droopy sleepy expression before turning to look at the now slumped form across from him.

“That was…weird” so maybe Din Djarin wasn’t going to win any awards for eloquence, but he was going to make sure that you were never able to catch him off guard again.

* * *

Initially when consciousness started its return, it was her hearing she became aware of first. The ambient sounds off a ship in flight tapped softly against her awareness and became slightly louder as she began to grasp for tendrils of control over herself.

There were the typical little whirrs & low tonal beeps of a ships systems going through its paces. Below all that was her own breathing but also that of 2 others.Little sniffling & huffs and other sounds she registered as coming from the youngling who was cuddling up to her when she’d woke before.

He was nearby, though it was hard to tell exactly where. Next she pinpointed the nearly inaudible modulated breathing sounds somewhere nearer to her. _The Mandalorian_.

All at once she realized a few things. Firstly she was still sitting up, probably where she passed out. How she knew this was due to the floor beneath her being warm. Metal was especially cold in space by default, so must have been sitting here for a while.

Secondly her arms were raised above her head and something was holding them together and restraining them in place. Ever so slightly testing her fingers and hands, finding them radiating with numbness and poor blood flow. _So, Binders…That’s fair_.

Attempting to open her eyes was a whole other issue. Her eyesight in brightly lit places was never great as opposed to her impeccable night-vision.But everything ( _even biological adaptations_ ) had a price. Thus bright lights were a pain to handle, especially compounded by lingering hibernation sickness that escalate its sensitivity.

She did however eventually manage to peak one eye open, a blurry mass before her solidified into a slightly less blurry Mandalorian with a blaster pointed at her.

_Admittedly, also fair_.

“I know you're awake” they began flatly.

She responded with a raspy grunt of agreement. No point in denying it. “Who are you, and how did you…” “I’m sorry…” she interrupted, voice creaky and throat dry. “but…Can you turn the lights down”

There was a sensation of the Mandalorian regarding her, and wondering if they would just shoot her was foremost on her mind. But the longer they were silent, the more she allowed the thought they might actually be considering the request to bloom into hope.

“…please, my eyes…hurt” she admitted, hoping he would understand she wasn’t trying anything on them.

After another splayed out moment of avoirdupois silence, the Mandalorian audibly sighed and the pressing of a button proceeded the lights dimming to ambient levels.

“Thank you, it’s just my eyesight has never-“

“Who are you” the request was a bit more forceful this time, and she supposed they were owed that much.

“I’m…” and just like that a bubble of panic rose in her chest and a tangible shiver reverberated across her shoulders. It was the mental equivalent of when you go to retrieve precious treasure, only to find it missing. _Well that’s inconvenient_.

_Frickfrickfrick_ …

The panic increased like water being brought up to a simmer.

She could hear her own breathing pick up speed, and knew it wasn’t good, but couldn’t stop herself. The more she tried to reach for that one bit of information the harder it seemed to be to recall.

The terror must have been evident across her face because they actually lowered the blaster, other hand gesturing towards her. “Hey, calm down…breathe slowly” said the Mandalorian while sitting up from the crate they’d occupied.

“In and out, slower” they encouraged, their barritone grabbing hold of her nerves & slowing its gallop. And she knew they was right of course. Over-breathing could dangerously lower the carbon dioxide in your blood…now how she knew **that** but not her own _name_ was another thought screaming its way through the racetrack of her mind.

Despite the battling inner voices, she forced herself to focus on the words & begin regulating her breathing in a way that actually felt seasoned. The realization it **was** something she’d been taught before was a discovery felt sturdy, so she grasp on to. Where she’d been taught lept into her mind unaided, and a bubble of excitement followed.

“I’m…a..Jedi..or I was, I…” she answered in between slowing breaths.

The Mandalorian was regarding her again in their quiet way, until they were both drawn by the sounds of the youngling making his own little noises. The little one toddled up to his Mandalorian, placing one hand on the leather & ammunition covered shin and then looked up at him holding something in his little chubby fingers.

“Hey, what did I say…” the tone shift in the Mandalorian was quite surprising. Though they begun stern and icy when initially speaking to her, the interrogation voice she presumed. Then it shifted to softer and encouraging, and now it seemed to flip right into what she would call a _Parental Unit_ voice. Despite the uncomfortable position, plenty lingering anxiety she couldn’t stop from smiled.

“Eh?” The little one spoke and held up the object in his hand in her direction, and then there were very clear waves of something intensely familiar coming from him. The power of it was strong for one so little, she found herself opening her mind to it in a way that felt eased and familiar.

“patu?” he vocalized while offering up a silver round ball in his hand like it was his prized possession, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the charming little fellow.

“Very nice…” she encouraged smiling directly at him now. He made a series of conversational babbling sounds, but all the while she was getting various impressions of words and almost images.

“Oh I see” she responded as if having a mutual conversation.

The Mandalorian watched, shoulders softened after a few “words” were exchanged. She was aware of his unwavering observance over the two of them, but it seemed their guard was relaxing.

Her heart clenched with an emotion she couldn’t name when suddenly this little one, who she’d only just met, toddled to her and crawled right into her lap like he’d done so with regularity. A series of impressions flashed in her mind and took her breath away with the realization that she recognized some of the places and things he was sharing with her. The Jedi temple on Coruscant, the sensation of meditation practice and the calmness of the Force that blanketed her old home. The bubbling of fountains, scents of ozone and incense and warm conversations and laughter and so many things that’d wallowed alone in her memories for so long.

Without hesitation she was actively sharing in return, the same impressions and familiarity ebbing and flowing between them. He smiled sweetly up at her knowingly and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes for a different reason.

Delight tugged her cheeks into a full smile, and she squinted up at the Beskar encased warrior in wonder.

“I think we’ve met before…haven’t we, Grogu?” she supplied once she found her voice.

“Were you…his…Master?”

At that a few things slammed to the forefront of her mind, memories solidifying more easily with the Force connection combined with not trying to wrench them free.

But the weight of them wasn’t light and airy like the beloved ones she just shared. Shutting herself off from the child suddenly as a flash of painful recollections hit her one after another.

They hurt as if they were hitting her physically and she had to close her eyes to try and keep herself from shattering under its assault.

The child made worried sounds up at her, and the loss of the pressure on her wrists snapped her back to reality.

The Mandalorian was kneeling in front of her now, releasing the binders. Their broad shoulders eye level, a surprisingly comforting presence.

She sighed in relief, rubbing at her wrists for a bit longer than needed to try and give herself a chance to calm down.

To their credit, they waited patiently and let her.

“No…I wasn’t a Master at all. Just a Padawan, ummm…that’s a Jedi’s apprentice…That was before Order…” she couldn’t bring yourself to say it, it was so fresh and painful still after the last few years.

“Sorry” she apologized finally, blinking up at them momentarily, but dropping her gaze again.

“Even after 2 years, it still feels…fresh”

The Mando’s body language changed quickly and she thought she heard them curse under their breath, the modulator not picking it up but perhaps it slipping out from under the helmet.

“How long do you say?” They reached for the top of her hand, and turned it over examining the marks left by the binders.

The gentleness in touch and tone of the question threw her off, but still she didn’t really want to think about it. Although…they deserved answers, they had been surprisingly patient with her thus far.

“I managed to stay hidden for 2 years before a Bounty hunter got me. They were searching for Jedi who’d survived, and I became…separated from Se’kio. He was a Knight who I’d been traveling with and…huh…” she huffed, annoyed. “Of course **that** I remember, but not my own _name_ ” groaning and clearing her throat again, mouth painfully dry.

“I’ll be right back” the Mandalorian said while standing and walking away swiftly somewhere she couldn’t see. There were muffled sounds and then he was back with a canteen in their gloved hand. “Thank you” she took it gladly, the weight of it comforting and the water might as well have been wine, it was the best drink she’d ever had. She swallowed her fill trying not to over do it too quickly. Even though she was still thirsty, she was no longer parched. They removed the canteen from her hands and set it down next to them. Once again she was thrown off at them lowering themselves to sit in front of her, crossed legs mirroring her own.

It must have rendered an amusing picture. The little green one his her lap, her a squinting disheveled mess, and the Impeccable Mandalorian a whole foot taller apparent even when sitting.

She couldn’t see their eyes hiding behind the Beskar and Glass, but she got the feeling that they were staring directly at her now. A long moment passed were her curiosity suddenly merged into anxiety, but she didn’t know why.

“…what?” And maybe she didn’t wish to know, but damn if she didn’t **_need_** to.

“Don’t be afraid” they began, she thought that was a strange thing to say. It didn’t comfort her at all, they needed to work on their bedside manner she thought halfway between amusement and annoyance.

“ What…seriously” ok she was fully worried now. The Mandalorian’s posture was tense again. She didn’t know how long she’d been in Carb freeze, and now was wondering what she’d missed that he wasn’t telling her.

“It hasn’t been 2 years since…since the purge of the Jedi.” One of their gloved hands open and closed sporadically catching her attention. A nervous tick perhaps. Somehow imagining an obviously seasoned and highly equipped Mandalorian being nervous made things worse.

“…ok…how long was I in there for then?” The idea of a whole year or more passing made her mouth feel dry again.

“It’s uh…” the helmet tilted down and then back up to her. “It’s been almost 30 years”

A small amused huff escapes her into a half cocked grin and she wasn’t sure why but she wanted to laugh. “A Jedi walks into a Bar and orders the Carbonite special….That’s a terrible joke” she proffered suddenly feeling a distinct sense of being only partially attached to her body. “…not joking…” they supply carefully, and she actually does laugh then, a tear escaping as she blinks.Her hand moved of its own accord to touch her face, fingertips coming away wet.“I know” her words are weak even in her own ears. She doesn’t feel angry, she doesn’t feel sad…she doesn’t feel much of anything actually. It’s a bit like floating above it all and nothing was solid. Vaguely aware of an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, she noted that her arms felt cold again. A distant internal voice was screaming a warning to her, but even that felt far away.

“Hey, look at me” when she doesn’t reply gloved fingers grip her chin and tilt her face up slightly. They were examining her, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight it.

“I think I’m going into shock…” she offers tonelessly.

“Yeah” they agree and then they are up and out of sight again. She knows the youngling is still there and she can hear him wining and feel him tugging on her tunic, but she just can’t bring her to respond. Instead lays her head back against wall again for support, thinking if she doesn’t that she might fall over. “I’m ok Grogu” she lies, worried she might be upsetting him but increasingly unable to do much about it.

When the Mandalorian returns there is a hypo in their hand, a shot of Bacta she guessed. Any other time she’d put up a fight over it, she was a healer after all.

_Oh hey, I remembered something,_ she muses detachedly.“I’m just going to..” They held up the hypo and she nodded best she could. The hiss of it being administered wasn’t a comfort though. She preferring to heal herself.

“I’m a healer you know....” she added, words slurring as the effects could already be felt. They nodded and watched her as if unsure what to say to that. “How funny I need a Mando…to…to heal me” she was struggling to stay awake now.

A few tears leaked again from her eyes, and she couldn’t even bother to wipe them away or be ashamed or embarrassed. Sleep was pulling you down so strongly she felt like she was being physically be dragged into it. “…What now?” was the last thing she remembered asking them before the darkness finally caught up.

* * *

By the time you’d fallen to unconsciousness again, Din was feeling the exhaustion truly settle through him. He wanted nothing more than to grab Grogu and get some real sleep. There were a few things he needed to do first though.

Foremost being he had to decide where to put you. Though still true that he didn’t even know your name, it was easier to let that go considering it seemed you didn’t remember it yourself. Chalk it up to a literal lifetime in carbonite, your vicarial reaction screamed authentic. The fact that you’d had a clear advantage to do anything from take his ship to kill him, but didn’t…

Pair that with Grogu’s behavior around you and Din was inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt for the time being.

Carb freeze was out of the question. Not least of all because he couldn’t be sure you would survive it. The memory of your terrified plea to not put you in also sat heavily in his chest.

_Dank farrik_ …he did not need this right now.

Dragging you up to the cockpit sounded exhausting, but leaving you on the cold ground wasn’t appealing either. After a few moments of uneasily shifting weight from one leg to the other, he chose.

There was a cot built in to the hull of one corner of his ship intended for triage purposes. He rarely needed it in all these years, so it was nearly forgotten. Not the most comfortable but it would have to do for now. Then again you were small compared to him, it might actually be somewhat fitting for you. With an audible huff and a twinge of his back he lifted you carefully and carrying you over to it, used the front of his boot to maneuver the lever that released the cot. It popped open with a louder than anticipated clang, but you your blank expressions never changed indicating you were deep under the sway of the Bacta and probably would be for a while.

Din made a mental note to replace the hypo he’d used next time he was Planet side somewhere with a decent market.

Digging around through supplies that’d been untouched for who knew how long, finally finding a smallish square package encased package he tore into to reveal a standard issue blanket. Probably part of first aid supplies he’d acquired over the years. He draped the thin sheet over you and regarded your still figure before him. You looked fragile now, expression relaxed finally under the sway of the Bacta. His mind went nowhere and everywhere as he watched your face for whatever reason.I must be tired. After another sigh he retrieved his cape and added it over top of the blanket.

It would have to do.

Din scooped Grogu back up as he made his way to the cockpit. “Sleep time kiddo”. Though he would much prefer to slide into his “bed”, he would be too on edge to get any real sleep in there anyway.

Instead Din sat Grogu in his Floating Pod, making sure he was comfortable and settled. The little one shuffled around a bit and plopped back with a little huff, making tired noises to himself. Din half smiled at him, affectionately rubbing the top of one large soft ear until little snorts became soft snores. When he was sure Grogu as fully asleep he pressed the button on the front of the pod to close it.

Inspecting the readings on the display, when he was content with what he saw there he crossed his arms across his broad chest sitting back with a groan.

He’d regret finding his rest here in his Pilots chair, but such was the life he led.

You had to take whatever rest you could get, wherever you could get it. He just hoped he didn’t end up regretting a few other choices he’d made as of late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KARAYA:  
> Outer Rim planet known only to the Jedi and its inhabitants. It has an unusual Dark ecosystem with bioluminescent flora and fauna, Jungles, vast aquatic cave systems and a hot/muggy climate. Home to a single sentient humanoid species who form a symbiotic relationship with a bioluminescent fungi by incorporating it into tattoos received by all of the people and some of the animals called the KARA'. Kara's were given starting at birth(the marking of their mothers on the cheeks/nose), then on the 1st birthday/name-day (their name/namesake on the forehead or temples) and for after that throughout their life for achievements and to denote rank (anywhere on the body depending on the reason). People of Karaya tend to be sensitive to the Natural Force and lived close to the land. Their society was matriarchal and did not have marriage contracts. Instead the Females would maintain their own households and males would live communally once they hit their Majority. This would remain for the rest of their lives unless they (on rare occasion) formed a lifelong bond with a willing female (or sometimes several). Karayan's were Long lived and usually had minimal sexual dimorphism except for on rare occasions. They came in a wide variety of skin tones from tan to very dark (hinting at the Ecosystem not always being "dark"), but due to the markings/symbiosis with the sacred fungi they all have green eyes (including the sclera). This is a bi-product of the symbiosis and gives them excellent night-vision, but poor vision in bright light. White hair was inherited only by a very rare few and was considered a mark of the Karayan's Moon deity. 
> 
> CARBONITE SICKNESS:  
> also known as hybernation sickness, was a medical condition that could occur when a person was brought out of suspended animation in carbonite. It was characterized by exhaustion, weakness, dehydration, dizziness, memory loss, and temporary blindness.


	3. TERMS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had to get to his ship...  
> Had to get to the Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Timeline is going to get a bit Wibbly-Wobbly from here on out. Din last visits Nevarro before the events of “THE JEDI” & we don't see him go back before the finale, but in my story I have him managing to go back at least once. Since THE WAY begins past the halfway point of Season 2, I will have a different take on how much time has passed. Time jumps will be well indicated.

More than 30 hours pass by the time the Razor Crest reaches the orbit of Nevarro, and yet she still sleeps.   
Honestly he didn’t have a durasteel expectation of how long to expect his new passenger to remain under the lull of the Bacta, but this still felt worryingly long. 

Every time he checked there was an expectation of the worst, but there they remained breathing softly in their slumber. 

Grogu tried several time to climb into the cot too, and Din found it both amusing and annoying. 

  
The first time it happens is a few short hours after he’d placed the _Jetii_ in the cot.   
Din dozed for about an hour and a half before he realized that Grogu was missing. A mild sense of panic heeled his pulse quicker until rushing out of the Cockpit he gazed down below. There was the bundle of brown and green perched on the Jedi’s chest.

He slid down the ladder swiftly and plucked Grogu up to eye level.  
  
“No _Ad’ika_ , they need rest” he muttered placing Grogu in the crook of his elbow as he always did while shifting his gaze down to them and seeing they were still sleeping deeply, he headed back to the Cockpit. 

Thrice more Din caught Grogu attempting to escape. 

The second time Din caught him, literally in mid air, as the child was escaping his pod.   
  
The Mandalorian’s senses were on high alert after that, thwarting him again and again in various stages of breaking loose of his Fathers vigilance.   
  
After a handful of hours more of wakefulness, it seemed that Grogu had enough and sleep would _finally_ take him. 

The final time Din was distracted by a repair he was focusing on. One minute he was welding a panel shut and the next his adorable little troublemaker managed to waddle away.

The Mandalorian didn’t need to think a second more about where he would find him, and his intuition served true.   
His adopted son sat perched on the sleeping Jedi’s chest facing them. As Din quietly approached he realized that Grogu seemed to be having a one sided baby-speak conversation _at_ them.   
His little head tilted side to side, large ears twitching as he uttered a combination of chirps, growls and hums.   
It was painfully cute, and Din was happy to suffer another minute to take it in.   
  
He almost didn’t notice but when it registered it gave him pause.   
Though seemingly utterly asleep, the Jedi was muttering something indecipherable in what appeared to be a response to Grogu’s own pseudo-talking.  
Din took a few tentative steps forward before finally being noticed by his _ad’ika,_ big pink and green ears dipping and little forehead wrinkling with a guilty look.

  
“Ok buddy, let’s let them sleep” Din sighed as he plucked the little one up into his arms but waited another second to peer down at them. They didn’t mutter anything else, only the twitching of eyes beneath close eyelids evidence that they were dreaming.   
  
Near 3 days later and Din’s only discovery were more questions.  
Deciding it would just have to remain something to worry on another time, he reached down to pull the blanket and cape up to their chin.

Din had an appointment to make.  
He just hoped they would be alright in the meantime. 

* * *

It doesn’t take Din long to reach his destination.   
The back alleyways of Nevarro were still intimately familiar to him.   
It had been his home for quite some time and there was a sense adjacent to nostalgia that settled between his ribs as he made his way like a silent silver shadow. 

Lifting up the tattered makeshift screen, the Hunter slid sideways behind it and down the well recognized stairway that lead to what used to be home base of his Covert.   
  
“There you are” Greef welcomed him in his amiable manner. Without prompting he relieved Din of Grogu while cooing and carrying on much to the child’s delight. 

It wasn’t lost on Din how Greef had gone from someone he only trusted to provide regular work, to someone he trusted even with Grogu. Greef had transformed into what Din could picture a grandfather to his son would be, or at the very least a highly _indulgent_ Uncle. 

Din still wasn’t the main progenitor of the majority of the conversation, Karga happily taking the lead in that. Pucks were exchanged for credits, and casual updates swapped.   
All the while the Mandalorian’s thoughts began to shift from Greef’s report to the thought of his _Alor_ and the rest of his Covert. He found himself wrapped up in the idea that when thing’s settled he would actively seek out his people once again. So caught up for a second was his attention that he almost didn’t hear what Greef said.

“Wait, what?” Din asked a bit more sharply than he intended, his full attention on the Magistrate.   
  
“The Slabs, I already sent for them.” Greef said before giving his attention back to Grogu.

_Dank Farrik,_ he cursed internally. So hung up between parlaying with Greef and his own memories he neglected to remember the one thing that further complicated what would otherwise be an appreciated gesture on Greef’s part.   
This return to Nevarro so soon after their last had been pulled off only with Greef’s help and discretion. A different landing sight, more isolated than the other. All in an attempt to stay under the literal radar. But he forgot one very critical change to the plan. 

“I uh, forgot something important…Can you?” he points at Grogu before promptly **not** waiting for the other man to answer. 

_He had to get to his ship.  
Had to get to the Jedi. _

* * *

When she finally wakes it wasn’t the steady background sounds that brought her back to consciousness, but the absence of them.   
Not the sudden shift of gravity or dropping out of the engines roar. Just the abrupt realization of its absence. For all she knew it could have been _hours_ before she became conscious of it.   
  
The wild racing of her heart actually served to to be grounding while she lay and simply listen.   
A life of having light sensitive eyes has taught her to be careful when opening them in an unfamiliar place.   
To her appreciation she finds the overheads still set to ambient levels as she apprehensively cracks her eyelids open. 

The remembrance of how she got there was murky. Rising to the surface of her consciousness like viscous globs moving through even thicker tar.   
She recalled the waking in the freezing cave, the being shot by the Mandalorian and healing herself.   
_Ah right, the Mandalorian._

There it was, he brought her here onto his ship. The rest broke free in succession: her incapacitating him, Grogu, and then…

She didn’t remember much after he’d revealed exactly how much time _was_ passed since her capture.   
It was very much a blur after that. Three times was a bit much to fall unconscious in a single day, even for a Force sensitive Healer.

After taking full stock of herself and realized she actually felt physically quite good, she sat up. This made sense, Bacta would have taken care of what she wasn’t able to in her state.   
But being in the dim hull of a ship did nothing to indicate how much time had passed since _then_. Her heart rate ticked up a bit, and she made a mental note to try and get something that told time on her person sooner than later.   
  
Li’ani sat in silence for a while longer. Realizing there was a blanket laid over her.  
 _No wait…two_. One was quite worn for wear, a tattered dark grey thing that was full of holes but surprisingly soft. It looked familiar but from where she could not fantom. 

Reaching out through the Force she realized she was actually alone on the ship. How long that had been for was another mystery, but it made sense that The Mandalorian would have to land somewhere at some point.   
Right now there were more pressing matters to attend.   
Like finding the fresher, nearly 30 years in carbonite wasn’t kind on the bladder. 

The floor was sharp in its chill, but nowhere near as frigid as while in space. The fact that she was barefoot was another revelation.   
Luckily the fresher was easily and quickly found, and even luckier was that it was a model that was familiar.   
What _was_ unfortunate was the state of it. It wasn’t filthy in any sense, it just wasn’t exactly _sanitary_. Luckily she’d seen worse, thus wasn’t that surprised.   
With that taken care of and freshly washed hands she found herself wondering what to do until the Mandalorian returned.   
  
She could leave if she needed to, but that didn’t feel right. Where would she rightfully go in a pair of patient’s scrubs and no shoes? Especially when not knowing what planet she was on.   
It was definitely inhabited, the signatures of living beings strong on the end of her sense, but beyond that she had no other clues. 

Her stomach growled and clenched painfully like a suggestion.   
She actually couldn’t recall the last time she’d eaten food. At this point it was probably on the front end of 30 years ago.   
Just as she contemplated poking around until she found either a chiller, a kitchen or rations the loud grinding sound of the ship’s ramp being opened startled her to attention. 

A gush of air alerts her back to her pathetic state of dress. The quickest option popping into her mind was to be to grab a hold of the top ( _and most tattered_ ) of the blankets and wrap it around her shoulders like a makeshift cloak. 

Again reaching out it was clear by what she sensed that whoever was walking up was not The Mandalorian or Grogu.   
  
She was met with a pair of uniformed ground crew who stopped when they catch sight of her, they startle and stare back.   
Three sets of very different eyes watching each other as it occurs to her that they must have been a _sight_.   
  
More than a few seconds passed over their ocular standoff before the 2 workers exchanged glances with each other before turning back to her.   
  
It occurs to her that it was unlikely The Mandalorian would leave his ship unattended by accident. That meant these 2 were here with _permission_. But it also strikes her that they were surprised by her presence, which meant The Mandalorian never _told_ them.  
  
 _So either he forgot, or…_  
The idea they might be here for her sets her pulse racing.   
One of the beings opened its mouth to speak but before they could the sound of quickly approaching footsteps caused all 3 of them to swivel toward it.  
  
Just like that the Mandalorian arrived, breath elevated slightly indicating they ran.   
After another momentary visual standoff where the 2 workers openly gaped The Mandalorian they seemed to come to their senses.

  
“…Sorry” she realized belatedly that The Hunter was actually speaking to _her_ , helmet tilted in her direction.   
“You were uhh…asleep and…”   
She swore he cleared his throat, but it wasn’t clear.   
  
“Uhh we're just going to” the taller of the 2 says pointing to a section near her.   
When the Mandalorian nodded once in their direction they carried on with their task with practiced ease.   
An awkward minute tripped past before she registers what they were here for.

_The Carbonite slabs.  
_  
Watching in silence as they began the process of offloading the slabs, she now realized they were probably the Hunter’s bounties.   
This made sense why he hadn’t been present when she awoke, life continued even with derailments ( _such as finding a frozen Jedi in an underground ice cave)_.

By the time the second slab was being floated out of the ship she finds she has to turn away, pulling the makeshift blanket tighter around her as a shiver rolled up her spine.   
The sight of living creatures frozen in time, suspended in solid carbonite pressed at something insider her overwhelmingly unpleasant.   
  
Aside from the worker’s breathing, shuffling footsteps and the din of them working the mechanized jacks that floated the slabs away, it was quiet.   
Then there was silence inside the ship again, and she risked a look back to the ramp. 

To her surprised The Mandalorian remained standing there, helmet turned to the opening before swiveling back at her.   
  
This time she was sure she heard him sigh as he regarded her.  
  
“How do you feel?” That was not what she’d expected honestly, though she wasn’t sure why.   
The Mandalorian had been nothing but kind to her, _aside from the initial shooting and all_.   
  
“Good, thank you” and as if to call her a liar, her stomach loudly growled for their attention.   
She could just imagine raised eyebrow when the helmet once again canted to one side.   
_Awkward._ She thought as she smiled apologetically.   
“Guess it’s been literal ages since I’ve eaten”   
The Mandalorian’s helmet nods as if in agreement and tipped it towards the ship’s opening in what she realized was an invitation to follow while he started down the ramp. 

“Umm, Mando….I mean, excuse me Mandalorian” they stopped halfway down and looked back, the sense of surprise she assumed was directed at the fact she hadn’t followed.

“Wha…” they began and she lifted the tattered blanket to reveal her bare feet. 

“…Oh, right…Um. Wait here?” and she assumed they were either going to procure shoes or bring her something back, though they didn’t make it far.

“This little one missed you” came a jovial baritone as an older dark skinned humanoid approaching with Grogu cradled in arm.   
  
The youngling cooed when he saw the both of you and she couldn’t help but smile at him.   
  
“Well well well Mando who do we have here?” The Person who was donned in magistrate’s fibulae had their attention on her now.   
Grogu giggled and blubbered happily as if in response and a few images arrived to her.   
  
She got a visual of herself asleep on the cot and realized it was a memory of Grogu clambering up onto it with her, and proceeding to try and wake her up. Then he was scooped up by the Mandalorian who appeared put out that Grogu was bothering her.   
She could nearly taste the little ones emotions about it all like notes of flavor in a soup. Contentedness at being with her, then annoyance and disappointment about being caught. 

It took her another moment to realize she was getting snippets of words alongside the other sensations.   
Some she was sure she’d never heard, but one word in particular stood out and hit her like electricity, because she **_knew_** it. 

“Li’ani… _huh_.” she uttered mostly to herself at first, but The Mandalorian must have heard her because swiftly that visor was on her again. 

“My name is Li’ani” Grogu cooed in response, his precious little head canting to the left while a big smile of acknowledgment spread on his tiny mouth.   
The more she rolled the name around in her mind, the more it fit snugly into place like a missing puzzle piece.   
Shaking her head as if agreeing to an unanswered question, she offered this new person a smile of her own.   
  
“Well be still an old man’s heart. Welcome Li’ani, it is a great pleasure to meet you. I’m Greef Karga the Magistrate of this lovely little outpost of Nevarro. Any friend of Mando is a friend of mine.” He preened approaching her, and soon had retrieved her hand and proceeded to kiss the back of it. Li’ani couldn’t help but smile wider at him, his jovial at ease nature was a tad endearing.   
  
There was another sigh from next to her emanating from _Mando,_ who now had their hands on their hips but she could sense amusement slipping off them so she wasn’t concerned.

Grogu actually reached for her and without a thought she took him, because that’s what one did when a child asked to be held. Especially one as adorable as him. 

“Well would you look at that” Greef chuckled and turned his smile to The Mandalorian.   
“You’ve been holding out on me Mando” he teased and once again the Hunter sighed, which caused Grogu to giggle. 

It was all quite humorous, but her stomach decided to once again be a joy kill and rumble for attention. 

“Now I get the feeling that some Dinner is in order” Greef fake whispered at her in his cheery way.  
  
“And shoes” she joked feeling a bit of embarrassment at her predicament though she knew she shouldn’t be. 

That gave Greef pause as he looked her up and down curiously but he smiled again reassuringly.   
  
“Yes, goodness that wont do at all. What are you doing Man, can’t allow such a pretty thing to walk about wearing your cape and no shoes. What would people think” he admonished with a conspiratorial grin and eyebrow raise in her direction. His rich voice full of mirth. She caught the tail end of a modulated grumble about how people should not know they were there at all, and then both were gifted with another long suffering sigh from the Mandalorian.   
She _did_ laugh then.   
  
“It’s not his fault I assure you” Li’ani defended, looking up at his visor and though not sure what compelled her she gave him a cheeky little wink and took the arm now being proffered by the older man.   
She chucked again and took it, _charming bugger._  
  
The sand was a little chilly beneath her bare soles as night had already fallen but she didn’t worry about it, after a few steps into the courtyard she hissed in pain and paused.   
“You alright there?” Greef asked with both eyebrows raised while being handed back Grogu so she could lift up her foot.   
The culprit was a sharp piece of scrap metal about the size of a food capsule firmly imbedded into her arch.   
Before she could respond to Greef that it was nothing serious, Li’ani instead was being lifted off her feet in a swingle effortless motion, her arms coming to stabilize against beskar pauldrons.   
  
Greef smiled and chuckled at that and led the way while whispering something lowly at Grogu and then chortling at his own humor. 

She felt the Mandalorian sigh and gently shake his helmet in light annoyance. After a few minutes she remembered her manners and whispered a soft “Thank you”, but wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.

A block of the back’s of businesses and homes passed with only the sounds of Greef talking to Grogu somewhat ahead of them before she felt the low response that rumbled through her side,  
“your welcome”.

* * *

Over the course of the meal ( _in which mostly Din watched Grogu and the Jetii eat)_ he sat back and and allowed the mostly one-sided conversation to flow over him.   
  
Greef was a cheery host, causing laughter from the Jedi… _Li’ani_ …he reminded himself.   
Din was content to observe as she ate while attentively prompting Greef to talk, and The Mandalorian realized she continuously ( _and skillfully)_ kept the focus on the Older Man rather than herself.   
Greef took the bait, waxing poetic about his History and how he met Din and so on.

What really caught his scrutiny was how Li’ani regularly attended to Grogu through her meal.   
He knew she must be famished, but without prompting not only did she see the child got his fill of food, but wiped his face when needed and was sure to split her attention with him. 

She was excellent with _ad’_ that much was obvious.  
Something warm slithered uninvited on the outskirts of his awareness, and he conceded in the solace of his own mind that it was related to seeing his Foundling being cared for.   
  
He hadn’t realized he was openly staring ( _or as much as anyone in a Beskar helmet could)_ until during Greef’s soliloquy on Din’s last visit’s adventure she turned to him and offered a gentle smile.   
He didn’t know how, but her aim was dead on in her eye contact.   
Din swallowed and shifted from his relaxed wide legged stance in his chair, trying to hide his embarrassment at being caught…or more accurately his _discomfort?_  
Whatever it was, he crossed his arms over his chest plate clearing his throat in a poor attempt at not being blatantly obvious. 

“Should be on my way” Din prompted and luckily Greef accepted it. Despite his breaking and bending many of the rules they’d put in place, he knew that Din was still basically on the run with Grogu and wasn’t eager to put them in more danger than them returning already had.   
  
“Absolutely, but first” and he scooped up Grogu with the promise of a treat and disappeared with him into the adjacent kitchenette.  
  
“Am I to stay here?”  
Din was rendered speechless for a beat, turning to her to find her now examining the bandaged bottom of her foot. She turns her head and stills, and he realizes she’s listening to the going’s on of Greef and Grogu in the kitchen. When it seems she’s satisfied with whatever she was seeking he watched as her eyes close, long lashes brushing her cheeks and she stills her hand over the center of her sole. The left corner of her bottom lip is pulled in between her teeth in concentration, it hits him that she’s healing herself when she flexes her foot a bit and proceeds to slip on the shoes procured by Karga. 

Din remembers after a beat that she’d asked him a question when she meets his eyes again. He couldn’t decipher the look found there, but thinks he wants to.   
  
“Do you _want_ to stay here?” He questions in answer in what he hoped was a casual way.   
  
“Greef said you were searching for a Jedi to complete Grogu’s training”  
A bubble of excitement appeared suddenly as she slips her foot into the shoe, at the thought he might have found one who could do exactly that & that was where this conversation was going. 

“Yes, this Quest has been imparted to me. I found one who said she could not complete his training, but has directed me to the planet Tython and some sort of ancient temple.” 

“Wait, you _found_ a Jedi? What was her name, where did you find her?” She sat upright in clear excitement at that.  
  
“Yes, a Togruta. Her name was Ashoka-“  
“-Tano?” The tone was astounded, and he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that she would recognize the name of another. He wasn’t at all sure how many Jedi there had been or how likely it would be for them to know each other. 

“Did you know her?” 

Silence as her shoulders sagged slightly. 

“No, just _of_ her. She was a well known Padawan of a well known Knight…whose name I’m not recalling.”

She appears to ponder this for a silent second before going on,

“I never actually met either of them. Did she tell you _why_ she wouldn’t train him?” her expression was pinched in a way that made him think she couldn’t understand why the _Jetii_ Sorcerer wouldn’t train the child. Din didn’t blame her, that was exactly his own reaction.

“She said…” he finds himself suddenly reluctant to go on.  
If she had the same reservations as the Togruta had he could loose a second chance at finding Grogu a teacher. But Din was noting if not honest, and he felt a call to keep this budding acquaintance with her untainted by lies. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to”   
There it was again, that soft smile and consideration. 

All Din had known about the Jedi less than a year ago was that supposedly they were a race of ancient Warrior Sorcerer’s & the enemies of Mandalorian’s.   
And yet for a second time he found them unwaveringly kind to his _ad’ika,_ and seemingly honorable. 

_Magical paralyzing skills not withstanding, though in her defense he shot her 1st._

Din looks down at the delicate hand now placed over his bracer, then back up as she nods her head as if to say it was alright if he choose not to go on.   
The sense of _curiosity_ was overwhelming now.   
Why he felt compelled to know more, to share anything at all with her was beyond him. 

“She told me there was much… _fear_ in him.”

“Ahh…yeah” at that she pulled her hand away, instead tugging one of her messy braids into both sets of fingers.   
He watches her again, mesmerized as she undoes the tie keeping it loosely in place, and this time it’s her turn to sigh deeply. For a second he fears she will mirror the other Jedi’s reasoning. 

Long thing fingers begin to comb through the tangled white strands while a series expressions play across her face.   
He’s transfixed with how expressive she is, _why_ is beyond his ken. 

Maybe it’s because the other Jedi’s were so regulated in a manner he understood. Partially for the same reason he wears this helmet. 

_The manner of a warrior vs a healer._

“Greef is lovely, but…” bringing the conversation around to his own question, she cants her voice down a few decibels lower than before trying to keep the talk between them alone.   
“But…I have a strong feeling that I might have been _meant_ to find you…and Grogu” she adds quickly, giving up on trying to untangle her hair and replacing the braid hastily. 

“I don’t know much about Mandalorian’s, but I do know you value the terms in an agreement.”   
Din nods then, arms uncrossing to lean one forearm on the table and leaning in to close off the space between them even more.

“I propose a deal” her hands fall into her lap, fingers gently rubbing against each other.   
“A deal?” It’s a prompting forward rather than a halting question.   
She nods and then again somehow manages to meet his eyes dead center. There is an illuminated quality to them and he finds himself wondering what they look like unfiltered. 

“I admit I am no Knight and especially not a Master, **_but…_** I believe I can further his training. At least, that is, until you can find a Jedi Master who **_can_** see to its completion. And if I’m lucky, maybe mine as well” her gaze never wavers from his until then.

“And in return?” Din asks, agreement already coiled just behind his tongue.   
“Passage and pay…” she shrugs.   
  
Din is abundantly grateful that she cannot see his expression. A little smile actually pulls on one side of his face and a small quick exhale of air escapes the back of his throat. 

“Is **_that_** all” he teases, unsure if he should admonish such naivety or laud the trust she was willing to place in him. 

He is rewarded with a ghost of a smirk pressing full lips together in an attempt to keep her own amusement down. 

“No Mandalorian that’s not all” the barely bridled mirth makes her words bounce in a sing song way. 

She slides as forward as possible while still sitting sideways on her chair, leaning in until one off her knees touches one of his. Until he can almost feel the heat coming off of her fingers only millimeters away from his.

“And” he prompts automatically,.   
“…And you **_never_** put me in Carbonite….”

Din freezes at that. Not because he finds any of it it disagreeable, but because he wasn’t expecting _that_. He chews on it trying to taste any hint of foulness, but only finds the flavor of it suits him just fine. 

“So I trust you to train and care for the kid so I can Hunt, pay you for your time, and no carbonite…” he lifts a finger for each point he ticks off. 

She nods quietly.  
Din unwinds the rest of his fingers, placing his hand palm up in the universal gesture to seal a deal. 

This attracts her gaze, then those eyes are hitting his exactly and he wonders if maybe it’s a Jedi thing.  
  
“I agree to your terms, Jedi” after only a second of hesitation her hand actually slips right into his. She shakes his in return, he finds her grip is more firm than he expected from seemingly such a delicate hand. Her eyes never leave his, though he can’t be sure she knows it. 

Din is alerted to the return of Greef just before he sees him rounding the corner. Before releasing her hand something causes him to squeeze it twice before letting go.

Somehow she gets the hint and and turns to the approaching Magistrate, leaving Din with a view of the back of her head. 

The new angle benefits Din with the sight of his _Buir’s_ face lighting up the second he sees the _Jetii_ , wondering to himself if he’s just made the best or worst deal of his life. 

* * *

Before the hour is up, the Crest breaks the atmosphere of Nevarro and has slipped into hyperspace like a hypo-needle into the veins of space and time. 

The Mandalorian manages to surprise her once more before taking his leave of her for the night. She sits on the cot again, Grogu across from her. As The Mandalorian prepared for departure she took it upon herself to entertain the little one, a sneaking suspicion that he was bound for sleep being confirmed only 15 minutes in.   
Big dark brown eyes disappear behind heavy drooping lids as his head softly jerks in an attempt to stay awake.  
Grogu looses the fight just as she suspected, and is softly snoring on his back. His 3 roly-poly fingers of his right hand wrapped around 2 of her’s of her left.   
She dare not pull away, that ever present risk of a 2nd wind keeping her still and quiet in her observation.   
It doesn’t hurt that the view is unabashedly adorable.   
  
“You uh, might not remember but you asked me to…” he begins approaching from behind her left shoulder.   
She turns to shush him, twisting at the waist as much as her preoccupied left arm across her torso will allow. Her right hand already dropping in surprise from its _shh_ _a toddler is sleeping so be quiet,_ position. 

Inches from her he holds out his gloved hand, tilting a significantly familiar silver object towards her.

When she reaches for it, it is overly slow and cautious even to her mind. She cannot seem to help it though, as her own increasingly fatigued brain is having a difficult time of wrapping itself around what it’s seeing. 

The moment her long thin fingers wrap around her Lightsaber it’s as if part of her world is gifted back to her. 

Li’ani in all honestly hadn’t thought of it for a single second since waking up on Nevarro, and only vaguely recalls asking him about it at all.

“…how?” Is all she can formulate, marveling at a physical remnant of the past that seemed more like a diluted memory than real lived experiences.   
Here it was though, it’s familiar weight serving to make everything that had thus far occurred all that more **_real_**.   
Li’ani isn’t sure yet if that was a good or bad thing, and she was even less sure if she was ready to find out which.

“Found it at the cave, thought it might be important” came the soft reply. They both pause. Him towering over her, her sitting with her arms crossed awkwardly before she looked up to him.

Her reflection peers back. Hair askew, clothing unfamiliar and dingy, mouth slightly agape. 

“Is it your…laser sword?” She didn’t know anything that came from his helmet’s speakers could take on such a hesitant tone. 

“My Lightsaber, yes...” she corrects, nodding her head and letting her newly laden hand fall to her lap as her thumb traces the patterns inlayed into the sides. 

Li’ani usually prides herself on being eloquent. Even the Masters had been free with their praise of her natural bedside manner.   
But she didn’t have the words for this feeling hollowing out her insides and filling the space back up simultaneously. The ton-heavy loss of her long gone life bumping sharply against the lightheaded rush of being saddled with something so new. 

When he moves towards Grogu she can only watch as he gently picks up the child with practiced ease.   
Her hand goes along with them, still clutched in the warm grip of the dozing youngling. 

Neither move again for a moment both watching the sleeping bundle for a second more, suddenly unwilling to break apart a peaceful moment before whatever comes next.

Nothing last forever though, and when the small one stirs she takes the opportunity to slide her hand from his grip.

The Mandalorian says nothing more, regarding her for less than a second before nodding and turning his back towards her. 

“Oh…Thank you Mandalorian. For, this. For everything…”   
_Smooth._ She thinks with an inward cringe. 

He doesn’t turn back, but pauses indicating he’d heard her.   
Helmet tilted down at the precious cargo cradled in the crook of his armored arm. 

“Get some sleep, you’ll need it” and then he’s carefully climbing the ladder and leaving her alone again. 

After the din of a metal door sliding shut fades, she breathes a little easier. Or perhaps easier isn’t the word, more _freely_. In the way that one does when realizing how differently they hold themselves when being watched. 

The Lightsaber is her only companion in the newfound solitude.   
Holding it aloft in both hands she toggles the switch.   
Instead of the swoosh of the blade coming to life she gets a pathetic sputtering sound. Li’ani tries turning it off and on again and is greeted with an even shorter and angrier sound of failure. 

A small bit of ozone wafts from one end and she knows with dread that her Lightsaber is well and truly _dead_.   
  
Her mind begins to formulate a plan to take it apart and see what can be salvaged, but gives up halfway in tired frustration.   
No home to go back to, no resources at her disposal and now no weapon. 

For the second time in this very hull the same worried words escape her just before unconsciousness arrives, adding pressure to the quiet weighing sitting heavily around her.

“ _What now_? _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVARRO: Volcanic planet in the outer rim territories.


	4. THE HUNTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Li’ani admits to herself she might have bitten off more than she could chew in the painfully early hours of a morning just under 3 weeks in.  
> Another sleepless night passes in the consistent dimness of the Razor Crest’s hull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Din & Li’ani are both crap at asking for help in very different but both important ways. Din in particular is a Himbo and doesn’t know how to use his words like a big boy. Grogu is adorable like always. Auntie Peli makes an appearance!

Li’ani admits to _herself_ she might have bitten off more than she could chew in the painfully early hours of a morning just under 4 weeks in.  
Another sleepless night phase passes under the consistent dimness of the Razor Crest’s hull.   
Three weeks, that’s about how long it takes for the relentless charge of disrupted rest to catch up. For nearly a month she kept pace just ahead of the marathon of invasive nightmares, but she never was the _fastest of runners_.

All things considered, the rhythm of her new existence had gone exceedingly well, until it just _hadn’t_.   
The worst part was that thanks to the well rounded tutelage she’d had, the woman absolutely knew the breakdown was nigh.  
 _Mental health was health after-all,_ as she herself had always preached _._

The reality was that rarely had a working knowledge of a thing guaranteed the complete ceasing of its inevitable arrival.   
Even amongst the ranks of the Jedi.  
 _Especially among the ranks of the Jedi._

Knowing a disaster was imminent was only helpful if you knew _how_ it would manifest itself. It’s hardly helpful to prepare for a flash flood if it turns out to be an Avalanche instead.   
Though in the end either way, you could suffocate if held under for too long. 

Li’ani is _suffocating.  
_ _S_ he’s doing it in plain sight, with a smile upon her face.  
She’s not worried about the act of suffocation, she’s concerned about how little she’s starting _care_ that it’s happening _.  
_ That’s the part that grips her mind as she lies awake.

Caring is what she _does_. It’s essentially who she is.  
If that’s lost, who will she be?  
Then why was she having such a difficult time caring if she was basically falling apart?  
Perhaps because the cracks were internal.

Three weeks is all it takes for them to fall into a steady but dazed rhythm.   
The fact that it was a discordant off kilter beat didn’t help matters, but she tries to remain understanding that it will take _time_ to adjust _.  
_ He isn’t used to having help, isn’t used to having anyone else onboard that wasn’t eventually frozen away for _**delivery**_. 

His quiet observant ways don’t bother her.  
They can be comforting.  
The long hours of silence interspersed with days of only interacting with a Middle Aged Frog Child aren’t even what break her.  
Though it would be a lie that she doesn’t miss Adult conversations that are more than a handful of words through a modulator.   
It’s the fact that it seemed, no matter how she tried to anticipate the needs of the little one and his Beskar armored guardian, _he_ always seemed to double his efforts to fulfill them himself.

 **Bristly** is the word she would use to describe his reaction to her attempts.  
Problem was Li’ani _needed_ to be helpful, because when she lays alone in the cold hull of the ship on an unfamiliar cot , she realizes aside from a dead Lightsaber…she has nothing left.

The Jedi were not big on possessions. Not the metaphysical nor the physical kind. But they valued resources, friendships and balance.  
 _At least in theory_.

The manifestation of that had been a found family she'd lost almost as soon as she’d gained them.  
The physical and mental care of the sick and injured peaking surrounded by similar sets of eyes set in the same faces but each singular when she’d taken the time to get to know them.   
She’d felt useful then, helpful, wanted, loved…  
As long Li’ani she felt helpful, nothing was too much. 

But he just won’t _let_ her.

During a particularly dark moment she wondered why he even agreed to bring her onboard.   
It was so easy to be pulled down by what if’s and memories of what and _who_ she’d lost.  
Daily they would sit, the child & she, to work through every age and skill-level appropriate exercise that could be recalled.  
It was minimal, but it was progress.

Meditation and elevation practice turned into a series of fun and engaging games for Grogu. It was like pantomiming the past, the memory so near she could touch it. This wasn’t the first child she’d help look after like this.  
She even managed to get various ( _albeit miss-matched_ ) art supplies that would keep any child his level fulfilled.   
It was easier to relive the former Li’ani this way than it was to lay awake with the fuzzy fading visuals of her mind's eye.

During the first days The Mandalorian never moved to stop her, going as far as asking what supplies she might need to continue her tutelage of the little Force user. That was around the last time he’d said more than 3 words to her.  
That was 3 weeks ago.  
The truth was, it was _Everything Else_ that was the issue.

Even in the Temple, where one would be immersed in the day to day lifestyle of a Jedi, one as young as Grogu would only be expected to dedicate a handful of hours to actual direct training.  
By the second week they hit the threshold of maximum appropriate hours a day Grogu could focus in a productive way.  
He was essentially a _baby,_ so they trained with games & they played in ways that were educational.

When all was said and done the real problem was the remaining 10 hours that were left. She didn’t mind the mundane tasks, but it seemed her Mandalorian employer _did_.  
Though she was ready and willing to lighten his burden, _he_ seemed to not appreciate the effort.

She ignored the pattern until it was blatant. 

First to be noticed was meal times. Unless he was physically gone or absolutely had to complete a repair of the ship ( _a worryingly regular occurrence)_ she learned right of the bat that The Mandalorian took his meals with his son, and he took them in private.

It didn’t take a genius to garner that he never removed any of his armor in her presence. She chalked it up to a Mandalorian thing. He wasn’t the first to regularly don such armor she’d ever known, but it wasn’t a huge leap to think it was a mannerism related to everything she _didn’t_ know about being a Mandalorian.

The second noticeable instance was after she gave Grogu a bath for the first time. They’d managed a particularly messy craft with homemade edible paints she’d recalled being enjoyable the last time she babysat.  
Mando didn’t say anything outright when he returned ( _bounty in tow_ ), but she felt his lingering gaze on her after he’d… _stored_ …the being he’d captured.

His presence always sat heavy on her senses when he was nearby, so she offered him a smile over her shoulder, tampering down her discomfort at the idea of what he was about to do, all while keeping her hands just by the bathing child as a safety measure.

Grogu made it a point to greet his Mandalorian enthusiastically, babbling at him while doing his best to get the front of Li’ani’s newly acquired Tunic sopping wet. She laughed and feigned offense which was rewarded by more splashes and bubbly giggles amongst the warm soapy water sloshing about the tiny metal tub used for washing him.

When she looks back again he’s gone, and she thought no more of it while wrapping Grogu in a dry towel and kissed his squeaky clean wrinkly little head.  
Li’ani didn’t mind such “mundane” tasks, they were satisfying and served to keep her busy.  
Busy was good…because being busy didn’t allow for _dwelling._

It’s days later that the recognition something was amiss settled suspiciously near her awareness. The next time Grogu desperately needed a bath & The Mandalorian got to it before she did.  
Even after returning from a hunt freshly bristling with exhaustion and irritation.

As Li’ani cleaned up the strewn mess of their latest project, he scooped up Grogu without a word. Soon after, before it seemed he’d managed any self care of his own, Grogu was in the tub being bathed by his guardian.

 _That’s fair,_ she conceded.

Perhaps it was a special task _he_ enjoyed taking care of.   
And that’s how it went.  
Hour by hour & day by day until they reached the threshold of just under a month of her being there. By then if it wasn’t Jedi related or strictly during the time’s he was forced physically away, The Mandalorian had firmly taken a hold of any task even minutely related to his tiny green charge. 

Li’ani attempted to meditate on it, to release the feelings of frustration and of _rejection_. She wasn’t here to be accepted, she reminded herself.  
Her task was to care for the child when The Mandalorian could not and to train him to the best of her abilities until they found an _actual_ Master.  
But it would be patently false to claim the sense of being unwelcome didn’t return with more intensity every time another attempted task was taken away. 

Finally she offered to go on the Market runs for the few times they were planet side, perhaps a reprieve from each other would help clear her mind.   
That too was shot down with a leveled “No, it’s…I can do it” on his part. 

In his defense, again, the last time they went out as a trio had begun with open stares and ended with mayhem. 

* * *

Initially it’s all very mundane.

He is searching for ship parts and she finds Grogu getting restless with boredom. The Mandalorians gaze is already on her when she turns back in from peering through the shop's door. 

“I’m going to take Grogu to look at what they have,” she said, barely waiting for the signature nod of acknowledgment.   
What greets them are a mix of cooking food smells, bright clothing displays, and the sounds of conversation and music.  
Grogu’s arms and legs pumped excitedly at the sensory overload.  
“Let’s go see what we can find my little Bantha Nuggie” she kisses the top of his head and chuckles at the excited noises he emits in response. 

After about only 12 minutes of following whatever caught her fancy, it’s a plant stall they settle at, and the vendor was vibrating with excitement at her interest.  
Li’ani had, as he’d agreed, been allocated a cut of all his bounties. Spending the credits on anything but the absolute basics was rarer than Aurelac. Though the replacement of the scrubs she was found in was essential, when she’d donned the new tunic and properly fitting boots they’d felt like a luxury.

The material she turned into a wrap for wearing Grogu was also practical in nature. It took a few tries to remind herself and get it right, but through a series of criss-crossing the material over her back and chest, she created a safe pocket for Grogu to more easily be carried. It was far more comfortable she found, and left her arms free and mobile. 

The biggest splurge so far had been an inexpensive and outdated chronometer.  
This had caught Mando’s attention the first time she donned it. He caught her off guard by the gentle stilling of her arm so he could examine her wrist.  
She thought she could sense a question below his surface, but he said nothing about it in the end.  
He never asked about it and for that she was thankful. The need to be able to know the time at all times served to soothe her nerves when anxiety overwhelmed & panic left her shaking and clammy after only an hour of sleep.  
She wasn’t ready to face that fact just yet.

With growing enthusiasm the Vendor holds up the numerous types of flora one at a time in quick succession.  
Li’ani’s somewhat familiar with a few, and thinks maybe acquiring one could be good for Grogu as much as it would be for her. There are several to pick from including exotic ones even she’d never seen.

With the sun filtered down through sanguine tinted clouds against a lilac tinged sky, a warm breeze shifting the leaves and vines of the plants and yards of textiles for sale making them look as if they were dancing, Li’ani took a moment to take it in.   
This market was nothing like the bustling sharp edged glistening ones on more central planets. It’s eclectic nature lends a charming and unexpectedly peaceful sense that makes it feel like a gift.

Grogu kicked his tiny feet contentedly as a particularly interesting plant was held up. It appeared like various shaped pebbles growing out of a layer of black rocks. Each fleshy island was hued in various shades of grey, orange, green and earthy pastels. Though the pod-like leaves looked like stones, they felt soft to the touch.

Tiny clawed hands reach out in intense interest, so she let him hold the small pot while passing a few credits to the Yuzzum working the stall. Just as they begin an explanation of how to care for Grogu’s gift, her attention is drawn away.

It happens quicker than the flit of a Toydarian’s wing. 

Apparently unbeknownst to even Mando, a bounty on his list was in the same market. In a stroke of luck ( _good or bad_ ) though the Hunter wasn’t even concentrating on any targets, one of his pucks began to alert, causing the wanted man to panic.  
He must have been watching them all along, or at the least must have seen them arrive together because before she knew it there was an unfamiliar arm hooked possessively across her collar and a vibro blade hovering uncomfortably close to her face. 

Li’ani would have had something decidedly snarky to say but didn’t, mostly due to the glaring awareness of Grogu strapped onto her body.  
She couldn’t risk his safety, no matter how quickly the aggravation she felt shifted into pissed-off territory.

 _How absolutely cliche, of course this would happen._ Why wouldn’t she be captured when letting her guard down, why _**wouldn’t**_ that happen?  
Somehow though her hands remain steady when wrapping protectively around the Child to guard his head and face, leaving her to the mercy of the man pressed up against her from behind.   
He aggressively swivels her around, using them as a shield against The Mandalorian who had been on his heels the second the beeping began. 

She reaches out through that ever present ether, turning her awareness on her assailant.

 _**A Hapan.  
** _ _**Male presenting.  
** They were shedding fear in the way only someone with nothing left to lose did. Habit and years of practice had her taking full stock of his body's workings.  
_ **_Regular smoker.  
_ ** **_Currently high on something…probably spice.  
_ ** **_…a heart murmur._ **

She searched through for anything that could be used against him, now just to figure out how it could be applied without risking Grogu further.

“Listen, it’s _not_ worth it Mandalorian…” he growled through gritted teeth, hot breath placed way too close to Li’ani’s ear for anyone’s comfort.   
“Could say the same to you” Mando quips with an ice cold air, but Li’ani can just about _taste_ the barely tampered broiling fury roiling off of him.

“Leave me be and I’ll let her go” he cuts straight to the pleading.  
“I can bring you in **warm** ….or, I can bring you in _cold_.”

Li’ani’s only witnessed The Mandalorian take in a bounty once, but he used that line then as well making her wonder if perhaps it was a habit of his.   
The vibe of the Market has transitioned from scrambling mayhem to a type of morbid curiosity. Whoever hadn’t run to hide now watched transfixed with bated breath at what would happen next. 

The tension almost snaps when something tips over a jar causing it to smash loudly on the ground. Mando whips a second blaster in the noise’s direction, but the weapon trained on the Bounty never budges.  
Slowly the arm across the front of her shoulders loosens as if to release her, sliding a tick too slow across her collar bone. Instead of letting go his clammy palm settles firmly over her throat.  
The new angle is only momentarily better until he adjusts the vibro blade in an actually dangerous position over her jugular.

“Take me in cold or hot?…are you stupid!?…I could say the same about her” he taunts while pulling her against him him more firmly.  
The gleaming silver helmet whips back around in the offender’s direction so fast it even caused the plant vendor to jump and gasp in surprise. 

“Want to try that again?” Mando bites back, the intensity of his word’s catch Li’ani by surprise.   
“ _Mando_ …”

The Hapan male backpedaled then, literally, hand tightening around her throat much harder than necessary while dragging her backwards a step. It might have been a mistake, a slip up in the effort to keep her from calling to The Mandalorian again.  
Whatever the reason ( _of which she isn’t sure of until **much** later_), that particular gesture is what splinters away her patience.   
Before there’s another word exchanged, before her Mandalorian employer’s own restraint snaps, Li’ani’s reaching for the arm holding the vibro against her neck  
  
She feels the sharp icy bite of the blade nicking her skin before _**everyone**_ can hear the Hapan’s scream of agony.   
Then he’s on his knees bellowing, tossing angry, bewildered and desperate questions at her about the state of his painfully incapacitate arm.  
He must be higher than even she anticipated because then despite his vulnerable position he’s threatening her with more violence, but it dies on his lips as a blaster bolt hits him right between the eyes. 

Li’ani drops her hands away from the child and turns her gaze to the Mandalorian at the same time. He slowly looks up and meets her stare and there’s a tense silence for a second.  
The fact that Li’ani wants to point out she’s just proven to be fully capable of looking out for herself teeters on the tip of her tongue. 

“ _Patu_ ” Grogu breaks the standoff, holding up the small potted plant proudly before him.   
It’s a fantastically ridiculous visual and causes laughter to bubble up out of Li’ani, dissipating the edge of the tension vibrating through her still.

“Guess I won’t be taking on Bounty Hunting anytime soon” she jokes indicating the body, and _he_ sighs.

* * *

Conversations with The Mandalorian became almost non-existent after that.  
It bothers her, more than she is willing to lay claim too.  
So much so that when she lay awake during one of those multitudinous silent slips through hyperspace, Li’ani repeats new mantras in her mind: 

- _He doesn’t need the distractions.  
_ _-You are not here for fun_.   
- _It’s not personal, just business_.  
- _He’s not your friend, he’s not like Jo, or Toby or Blue or…  
_ _-...It’s ok he’s not like them  
_ -It _has_ to be. 

When a months worth of avoiding her escalating nightmares, and running out of tasks to fill her day end she stares at her lightsaber…  
Wondering if it would even be _worth_ it to take it apart and start over.  
 _Is there a point at all?  
_ She’s dangerously near a breaking point, but somehow manages to push the Mandalorian to _**his**_.  
 _She never was great at closing people out._

There wasn’t any discussion about the _Market **Incident**_. He doesn’t address it and she never brings it up, but Li’ani felt conflicted by the tendrils of anger simmering just under the Beskar.

Was he angry with _her_?  
Had she put Grogu into danger in _his_ eyes?   
All unasked and unanswered questions, so she mostly kept to herself after it.  
At least for a few days. And then she’s falling back into old habits.

Making sure that when a meal is prepared for herself and Grogu there was enough for The Mandalorian to partake. It was something instinctual.  
She hand’t placed any special meaning behind it, just that he needed to eat and she could make that happen. All the same he was visibly taken aback by this when she’d presented him with a bowl of rations hacked into a stew of sorts.  
She left him so he could eat in private, feeling a little bad it took that long to think to do so. 

Then on a full day’s layover refueling and restocking on a blessedly warm & sunny day in a minuscule station, she’d washed the “blanket” that was _actually_ his cape. She’d known all along what it _truly_ was from the visit with Greef, but it remained with her. He never interrogated her on it or requested it back.  
At the outset it was easy enough to ignore the implications, after the _Market_ Li’ani knew better.

When it is finally dry she carefully folds and places it on his Pilot's seat. It should easily be found that way.   
In its stead she manages to acquire a blanket of her own.

There isn’t much on this backwaters moon for her to pick from, and she doesn’t have an abundance of time before it’s time to take off…  
Among the sparse wares was just the thing, unassuming in its simplicity that it catches her eye.  
The realization it was knitted didn’t hit until the moment her fingers run over it, instantly it brings her back to memories of a better time.  
Li’ani finds she cannot leave it behind.  
Though costing more credits than she wanted to pay, she doesn’t regret it…  
It’s obviously well loved and well cared for and it’s _worth it_ even when she can feel the prickly heat of a memory threatening to fall from the corner of her eyes.  
 _She would not openly admit to missing the cape, there’s a lot she hasn’t openly admitted to missing_.

Mando is wearing the freshly laundered cape the next time she sees him.  
It takes her a second to focus on him, realizing her mind had wandered.  
When he pauses just in front of her during a lesson, Li’ani thinks perhaps he might actually speak to her.  
Gazing up at her own reflection was always a bit jarring, especially with the taut silence between them. His fingers flexed in a way she’d noticed he did often.  
Just as the courage to ask _what was wrong_ appears…he huffs a sigh and stalks away. 

She couldn’t lie, _**that one hurt**_.

Li’ani _thought_ she was good at reading body language, great even.  
It was a skill she always prided herself on.  
Thing was when dealing with your inner demons that whispered untruths about your shortcomings, it was effortless to second guess yourself.

- _He isn’t mad at you, he’s just not used to such regular interactions.  
_ _-It’s nothing you’ve done wrong, nor is it his fault that he’s incredibly self sufficient_.  
- _He doesn’t hate you, but he isn’t your friend…nor does he need to be._

She repeated such things to herself, but in truth Li’ani was starting to feel _crazy.  
_ He’d shown her such warmth from the get go ( _aside of course from the unfortunate shooting thing)._ That 1st week aboard she would be willing to claim something next to friendship had begun to bloom.   
He’d been there, a solid silent comforting presence whom she allowed herself to find a touchstone in…but before it could take further root it was gone.

And for her love of the Force, she _couldn’t_ suss out what she’d done wrong, or how to repair whatever was broken.

The nightmares were exhausting, the lack of sleep was exhausting, the _crushing boredom_ and loneliness was exhausting, the mixed & muted signals from the Man who was her literally her lifeline but whom she wasn’t sure if he just was antisocial or if he simplycouldnotstandthesightofher….was _exhausting.  
_ _Li’ani was exhausted._

That’s how she meets Peli Motto. 

Tatooine was a planet only familiar to her by reputation, so it’s a bit of a shock to the senses leaving the eternally chilly confines of Space for the bright overwhelming heat of the Desert Planet.  
While Mando had been forthcoming with that kind of information _if_ she asked, when the distance started to grow she stopped asking. If he wanted to tell her he would, she was desperately trying to not reach for what obviously wasn’t there _._ It didn’t matter either way, because she went where they went.  
Besides who would she discuss it with, the baby?

Li’ani thinks she really doesn’t hate Tatooine at first sight, it’s just…an adjustment.   
It’s the same with Peli, she soon finds. 

The woman is like a tiny sand devil of curls and cusses.

The few times Li’ani had been able to watch others interact and _react_ to The Mandalorian it was clearly always a minimum of 90% intimidation on the other’s even when the interaction was neutral or amiable.  
Peli exuded exactly 0% sense of intimidation in The Mandalorians presence. She didn’t even _notice_ Li'ani for at least ten minutes after they exited the ship.

Striding right up to the wall of Beskar, the first words Li’ani hear’s is the somewhat shrill threat of bodily harm against him and a demand to see “her Bright Eyes” before the woman gets her sights on Grogu and then her whole tone changes. Then it’s what Li’ani can only describe as pure _ecstasy_.

This is also the first time Li’ani hears the Mandalorian openly **_chuckle_**. It startles her in its unexpected richness, settling a warmth in her belly but the aftertaste is bitter.  
Within the short span of their arrival it’s become clear that there is a friendship between these two. The Mandalorians whole stance is more relaxed already in the 5 minutes there than it has been in the past 15 days with her. 

So instead Li’ani stays clear while perched on the ramp. At least from that spot her light sensitive eyes are blessedly shielded in the shadow of the Razor Crest.  
Another five or so minutes pass as Peli coos at Grogu, reminding Li’ani of Greef and it makes her smile despite herself.

“Is he feeding you enough Bright Eyes, I swear you’ve grown, yes you have… What did you do to the ship, must have done something to her to show up in my Bay. Perfect timing honestly because work has been a bit slow and…” she jumps from one subject to the next until she paces just out of The Mandalorian's shadow and catches sight of Li’ani.  
For the first time since the ramp lowered, the diminutive woman stills. 

“Who the heck are you?” The words on anyone else might have been patently rude, yet everything sparking off of Peli screams of good natured honesty.  
“Just another pathetic life-form.” Li’ani wasn’t trying to be funny outright, but it was the first thing that came to mind. 

After a beat where the Mechanic squints up at the Jedi incredulously, Li’ani is gifted with the loudest cackle she’s ever heard out of such a petite person.  
“Now _her_ I like” Peli shoots at The Mandalorian with a toothy grin.  
“You like spotchka kid?” And suddenly she’s got Li’ani by the forearm and Grogu in her other arm. “Wait, you're an Adult right?” Li’ani actually laughs at that and assures the Mechanic that she very much is. 

By the time they enter her abode Li’ani decides she likes Peli.  
The Force, it seems, has granted her a bit of a break for a change. 

* * *

Din was _slipping_.  
What he was slipping into was a question he wasn’t willing to even entertain.  
Something that carried the distinct air of _vulnerability.  
_ In his lived experience vulnerability meant _weakness.  
_ Din hated feeling weak, he _couldn’t_ feel weak.  
Weak meant death, and destruction and if for nothing else besides the safety of his Foundling he had to _survive._

The moment he realized he was falling into such a trap was approximately a week into the arrangement with the Jedi. Din wasn’t sure how she’d gotten so far under his guard in 5 days but if he learned it was some sort of _Jetii_ magic he wouldn’t be surprised.   
_Then again that wasn’t exactly fair either.  
_ He could grant there wasn’t a single thing she’d done that could fault her for his own poor decision making.   
_Bringing her onboard had been a mistake._

The guilt of even _thinking_ it left him with a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he was honest at all with himself, he could take responsibility for the truth of his predicament.  
Her _presence_ wasn’t the mistake, his growing desire for it _was_.

Just a week in he woke up feeling completely rested for the first time in half a lifetime. He’d slept more than his normal under 2 hour spurts…6 to be exact.  
What nearly equated to a whole proper night's sleep.  
His heart has raced at the realization.

After quickly donning the Armor and helmet, Din tried his best to keep moving at a normal pace and not a run in obvious panic.  
The last time he’d overslept that wasn’t related to an injury was beyond his recollection.

 _Di’kut_!

Several things sped through his mind as he aimed towards the cockpit to check on the route and the systems. Finding everything as it should be eased up on the tension in his shoulders slightly.  
It all shot back up when he nearly jumped out of his seat, armor, clothes, and skin by a sudden opening of the cockpit door. 

Din felt like an outdated computing system taking too long to load as his mind stopped loading.  
It was the Jedi, because who else would it be?  
… _Li’ani_ … _she has a name_.

“I hope you slept well” she began in that effervescent cheery way he’d started affiliating with her. Din continued to stare, he probably would look like an idiot if she could see his mouth agape and eyes wide at her.  
Thank the Beskar she couldn’t. 

“I um…” and she was handing him a hot bowl of something that smelled good even though he could only catch a whiff from under the bottom of his helmet. “Grogu’s just gone down for a nap so you should have some peace” she added while handing out a spoon to go with the meal sitting perched in his hand.

“uh…thanks”  
 _Di’kut, why was he an idiot?_

“Your welcome, I’ll let you…” and she smiled again softly at him, causing his heart to pick up a tick faster than before. And then she was gone, the door shut behind her. Din realized belatedly that this was the 1st time in forever someone provided a meal to him without being prompted. Despite the palpable lingering curiosity when her gaze settled on him for longer than needed, she hadn’t questioned his need for privacy either.  
Somehow she’d picked up on it without explanation. 

The food nearly went cold with how long he sat and pondered this. Finally with the cockpit locked he actually ate the meal she’d given him.  
As he parsed out spoonfuls of what was in his bowl it hits him belatedly that it’s actually rations. They were barely recognizable. She’d added to & seasoned it in a way that was surprisingly satisfying. It was good, _very_ good.

For the first time in a good long while Din sat free from his Helmet, well rested and stomach full in the privacy of his cockpit while his foundling was nearby and cared for…  
A sense not unlike dread began to germinate. This whiplash quick change in under a week made him feel off kilter in a manner that scared him.  
If he wasn’t careful Din feared he would grow to be too reliant on her kindness. It didn’t matter how comfortable he felt in her presence, or how kind she seemed. It didn’t matter how attached his Foundling already was to her, or the thick warmth that spread over him when watching them together…

It didn’t matter how singular he found her, and how easily his eyes were drawn to the interesting expressions always flitting across her features.

Din Djarin couldn’t allow himself any more weaknesses.

He didn’t have room in his existence for anything else soft, didn’t have the space to allow such kindness. Even if he _wanted_ to.

One day possibly sooner than later he _would_ find the rightful home of Grogu, even if it took another lifetime…  
Until then he would have to continue to Hunt, to hurt and _kill_ to make his living.

And then Grogu would leave him…  
…the _Jedi_ would leave…When that day came Din had to be ready.  
He had to be as unmoving & impenetrable inside as his armor was outside.

Because he needed to be strong enough to let go.To hold fast to the reminder that those who got close to him got hurt. Those who got close to him _died_.

Because if he was to complete this Quest, he had to be strong enough to not hold on, to stay closed off.

_This was the way._

* * *

Din manages to stay true to his word.  
He guards himself against slipping any further down the slope of the mountainous kindness she continued to display.   
He kept interactions to a minimum, worked to not rely on her more than absolutely necessary.   
He had to Hunt though, that much was a given.

Several days later after returning from tracking a bounty, his steps paused so suddenly the H’nemthe bounty nearly collided with his back.  
Despite caring for his foundling all day, training him and entertaining him he finds her bathing the child too.

Grogu notices him then and blows raspberries in acknowledgement but turns back almost instantly, the distraction of bubbles and warm water and _her_ enough to keep his attention. 

Din’s body stiffened when she looked over her shoulder at him, the warm smile she offered without fail directed his way. He watches her eyes flicker to the being behind him and then flick towards where Carbonite locker was and Din think’s she probably didn’t even realize she’d done so. Her expression shifts slightly to something that darkens the look in those bright green eyes that he doesn’t care for.

When she turns away he takes the opportunity to place the bounty, pretending to not hear her tinkling laughter at the child or how it reaches him in any other way besides audibly. Her back remains turned to him when he’s done, distracted with the care of the boisterous little one.

But from the safety of his perch above the hull he is just just out of sight, Din can ponder how she looks back for him and seeks him out with her eyes.

After a beat her attention goes back to wrapping Grogu in a towel & getting him dry.

Din observes from his vantage as she places a tender kiss on the top of the little wrinkled head, and only thanks to the Helmet can he make out the soft spoken consideration she gift’s his son.  
The physical distance makes it feel safer.   
Makes him feel less culpable in the sin of this weakness.  
Pleasure at just how…domestic, and soft it all is.  
He cannot quite be sure if he hates more how it makes him feel, or the fact that he is helpless to feeling anything at all.

* * *

It’s strange the things that can nearly break even well placed barriers, the small moments that might crumble your resolve.  
A routine refueling stop nearly sets him back 2 weeks.  
He’s trying to find those damn parts to fix what’s been plaguing his ship for over a month.  
It’s been impossible to locate, even in a well trafficked ( _or as well trafficked as he dares_ ) location that gets a variety of parts for ships of all types.

The problem being of course, his ship.  
She was old, he knew that. It was part of what he loved about it.  
Vintage was the word he preferred to use. A fixer-upper yes but _his_ fixer-upper all the same. The problem with that was, especially when trying to keep a low profile, parts could be hard to come by.

He’d put it off long enough, but the further they got and the more he sought the clearer it became. The one person he just _knew_ could help him was Peli Motto. And Tatooine wasn’t exactly on his list of locations he was trying to visit right now. Not because he was avoiding the Mechanic, she was a friend.  
It was because he _knew_ he wouldn’t find either a Covert or a Jedi there. But he also couldn’t risk a systems failure that would put them all in danger, so he makes a quiet decision that their next destination would be Peli’s hanger. 

Din didn’t catch sight of Li’ani when he made it back on to the ship.  
He’d been good about avoiding her all together, as much as was possible on a small craft.  
He’d only slipped once since deciding to make distance.

After visiting the fresher late at night, he’d heard her shuffling restlessly in the cot that had become her’s. Din stopped and allowed himself to watch over her, from a distance, until it seemed she settled down.  
He didn’t know why he was compelled to, but he thanked the darkness and the late hour for not being caught.  
Locking the memory of the night before away as he’d closed up the ship, he started for the Cockpit where they finally crossed paths.

The Crest wasn't big by any standards, so it was inevitable.   
She’d reached the bottom rung of the ladder just as he was a few steps away. Obviously she’d come down from there, though he didn’t know why, it made him uneasy.   
She didn’t say anything, just offered a tight lipped ghost of a smile and passed him by.

When Din reached the cockpit he figured out what she’d been doing in there.  
 _His cloak_.  
The familiarly tattered material was freshly washed & sat folded in his Captain’s chair.  
He’d been without it since he met her, but hadn't had it in him to ask for it back. Instead he’d worn a backup that’d been quickly destroyed in a fight, and then he wore none at all.   
But here it was, very obviously laundered in a way he knew she must have done by hand due to the water tanks needing refilling.

He rubbed the material through his leather bound fingers, and had the sudden overwhelming urge to _smell_ it.   
That gave him pause.  
It wasn’t a secret that she was attractive.  
He’d seen it back in Greef’s place.

Din wasn’t a prude, even so he found it hard to admit it had been a long time since he’d found anyone more than fleetingly attractive…  
 _Omera._ That was the last time he’d thought _what if.  
_ With Xi’an…with anyone else he’d never cared to entertain more than fulfilling a need.   
  
There were similarities there: Her high cheekbones, full lips and elegant face. Both were physically attractive, maternal and kind.   
He’d given himself permission to ponder the possible in regards to the young widow from Sorgan, even months after they parted ways.  
But Omera was worlds away, locked onto a path he would never walk.  
He was _ok_ with that honestly, despite the fleeting stay to wonder how things could have been different.  
Din had decided that he _might_ have been happy with Omera, but that he was also alright with how everything turned out. 

Then there was Li’ani.  
And she was… _there_ , so present and tangible and so unlike anyone he’d ever met despite the sense of familiarity they’d so easily slipped into.   
That’s what made such thinking so _dangerous_.

Din expertly donned the returned cape.  
He didn’t need a mirror to put it back into place. It was such a practiced motion, he could do it in his sleep. When it was secure he couldn’t help but feel a piece of him had been returned, but not in the same shape it was when he’d given it away.   
That was the truly alarming part.  
The idea that in giving a piece of yourself away, could fit _better_ upon its return.

It was the same cape, the same size and length. Nothing was new about it, except he could ( _if he allowed himself to_ ) imagine it was Li’ani’s scent that clung to it. Like she, despite his best efforts, had started to imprint herself on every aspect of his life.

And for not the first time in a year, Din almost allowed himself to wander down a path of what if.  
 _Almost_.  
The small allowance nearly causes him to give in then and there.

On autopilot he finds himself standing over her. Din is taken aback by the aimless 10 yard stare on her face. Grogu was across from her, floating the shifter knob between them. The child was entertained and engaged, but it seemed her mind was a million parsec’s away. For the first time in weeks he allows himself to take a truly good look at her face close up. 

She looks… _lost_.  
His intention was to thank her, and maybe allow himself to open the dialogue back up between them.  
He thinks maybe he’d over-reacted, maybe it wasn’t so bad to allow room for friendship. In the near 4 weeks she’d been onboard Li’ani had been nothing but helpful and kind, in ways he hadn’t anticipated. 

But instead he freezes…because she looks so _vulnerable.  
_ She looks so soft, and lost in her own thoughts.  
His fingers twitch under the need to reach out, and do…what?  
He didn’t know. Something dangerously unguarded. 

Din sighs, because he is a coward.  
Because he is afraid.  
Because he doesn’t have the words.

Din walks away without saying anything, because if he doesn’t go he might slip. And if he slips…there will be no one to catch him. 

Because if he slips…he might _fall_. 

* * *

For the first time in her _**new**_ life, Li’ani gets _drunk_. 

Peli sets her droids to work and then she’s coercing her new friend into a game of Sabacc plied with plenty of spotchka. In her defense she offers The Mandalorian some as well, but true to form he refuses and simply sits and studies them as is his nature. 

Peli knows a lightweight when she sees one, and true to _her_ nature she takes an opportunity and rolls with it. One look at the white haired beauty and it’s evident the poor girl needs a drink. Before she knows it the whole story is flowing freer than Jabba juice on tap.  
It’s more of a _Saga_ really.

Complete with honest to Maker Knights ( _the Jedi kind)_ , a time warp and a Damsel in distress.  
“Whew…thass an Epic!” Peli’s own words are a bit slurred, but she’s _only_ tipsy. There’s at least another solid 2 hours in her before she’s reached her limit.   
Li’ani on the other hand appears for the lack of a better term, _schmammered._

Peli knew the girl needed a drink, but after beginning to grasp the weight of her tale instead decided what she _really_ needed was to get drunk.  
So that’s what they do.   
All the while Mando hovers just on the outskirts of their little party like a Bonegnawer, observing in tense silence.

“I met a Jedi once, _handsome_ bugger…fancy accent” Peli added to herself mostly while presenting her hand.  
Li’ani groans and laughs, and loses the game… _again_.  
Honestly she’s a sweet lady but can’t play the game worth shit.  
The story alone is worth it though.

Between playing hands, drinking shots of the blue liquor and checking on the progress of the ship they entertain Grogu until his eyelids get heavy with sleep. 

“Handsome Jedi with a fancy accent, that narrows it down”, Li’ani catches up after a moment. Peli cackles at that and has to give it to her…for someone who’s basically lost everything she sure manages to maintain a chipper facade. 

“I’m going to put him down,” The Mandalorian says his first full sentence in an hour.   
“nuhWait, I fold…” Li’ani counters before he can leave. Her words slurred comically. She falls quiet for a second, exhaling dramatically through pursed lips and running her hands over her face and hair taking a series of deep slow breaths.

For a minute Peli isn’t sure if she’s going to pass out, throw up, cry or fall asleep.  
When her hands fall away she blinks those green in green eyes a few times and makes steady eye contact with Peli, and there’s something different there.   
She offer’s Peli a genuine smile and when she stands there isn’t even a wobble present.  
For the first time in Peli Motto’s life, words fail her.

Either the girl had been faking her drunkenness, or she had the fastest turnover of any Humanoid Peli had ever met.   
“Thank you for your hospitality Peli, I’m so glad we met” and the Mechanic is nodding and smiling in return, still taken aback by the quick change in mannerism. 

“I'll take him” Li’ani offers but doesn’t wait for The Mandalorian's response before she’s relieving him of the little one and heads towards the ship. When the crunching of boots on sand fades away and the Mandalorian is still standing there watching her retreat, Peli turns her sights on him.   
She’s able to watch for a few more moments as she thinks of what she’s going to say next. 

“So…how much of that was true?”He huffs in response, taking the seat now abandoned across from her.  
“Far as I know…all of it” his helmet still not turning away from the exit. 

“Hmmm….” Is all she offers as she returns to the spotchka left in her glass.  
“Poor thing, that’s…” she really doesn’t have a word for what that is.   
“…Yeah” he breathes as he sits back in the chair with a tired groan.

“She’s good with the little one” Peli notes nonchalantly as she begins to collect the spread out cards.  
“Very” he concedes simply, rubbing a glove across his right shoulder as if to loosen it. 

“Seems like a sweet girl…very pretty” Peli adds as she begins to shuffle them.   
The Mandalorian’s helmet slowly rolls at her and stops with his glass visor dead on but adds nothing.  
Peli finally meets his gaze, or what she assumes is.   
“What?! Look I’m just _saying_ …S’not everyday you find a pretty thing like that who’s good with the kid, is a fancy Jedi…”  
“Healer” he adds, but she can just _hear_ the amusement dripping through his mod. It makes her chuckle and his head shakes a bit and she just knows he’s laughing too. 

“Soooo…it’s not every day you find a pretty _…available…_ good with your kid _…available…_ once upon a time Jedi who _……._ also just so happens to readily agree to deal with your _shit.”  
_ Peli takes a long drawn out swig of her drink while suddenly taking an intense interest in the deck in her hand.

“You said available _twice”  
_ _“_ Oh Did I? Hadn’t noticed.. _”  
_ _“Hmm…”_ he doesn’t seem convinced and she knows that’s his way of ending the conversation. Rising from the chair to his full height with a sigh in the way she’s allied with him, Peli takes that as her cue to reach across the small table and fill the empty shot glass with a generous snort of spotchka.

When she sits back Mando is regarding her silently, though after a tick he moves to grab the glass and his helmet tilts a bit in her direction as a way of taking his leave. 

Peli purposefully turns her back to him, and uses that as an opportunity to cork the bottle and place it back on the bar behind her. Only turning back around when she hears the clink of the empty glass being put down, book ended by the hiss of his helmet being lifted just enough to take the shot and then be replaced. 

“Night Mando”  
“ _Night Peli_ ” 

She’s left with a lot to think about.

After going over ( _picking_ at) her Droid teams progress and asking them ( _berating lovingly)_ at them to keep the noise down ( _to shut up lest_ they wake her favorite womp rat) she’s just tired enough for sleep. 

Peli doesn’t have fancy Jedi seeing powers, or whatever…what she does have is a lifetime of observing people.

And she knows two worthy idiots sharing a single brain cell when she sees it, or her name isn’t Peli Motto. 

* * *

True to her word by the time he arrives, Grogu is tucked in and fast asleep. The pod floats conspicuously near her cot as she watches over the peaceful slumbering toddler.  
Din stands frozen across from her, mind racing with all the words he knows he _should_ say but are currently failing him.

He’s thankful for the silence to think, and that he decided to accept the shot of Spotchka because between Peli’s door and here he’s decided he has to say _something._

“I can stay here on Tatooine if you want me to.”  
“Wait. **what**. _why_ …” tripping over his own tongue has nothing to do with the alcohol.  
“It’s just…whatever I’ve done to make you regret having me here, I want you to know I… _am_ sorry.” The words are so unexpectedly apt that Din nearly chokes on his own spit. 

When he finds his voice after a heavily loaded moment he asks with all the eloquence of a drunk. “….do you, think that I…”. _  
_ “I just wanted to be useful…I never meant to overstep, if that’s why…I can do better.”

Her voice trembles and pulls on his heart strings in a way Din’s not sure how to feel about. He lets go of a sigh that feels more like the release of too much pressure.

“You had a lot to drink” he begins by way of an out.   
Though he’s not sure who the out is _really_ for.  
“I’m not drunk…not anymore” she meets his gaze and he knows she’s telling the truth. 

“How”  
“The Force Mando, just like what I did to you…just like what I did to that Hapan…Body functions, it’s… _complicated_.” she sounds utterly frustrated then, he knows he’s stalling and he _does_ feel bad for it. 

“Tell me I overstepped, tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it”  
 _Maker she’s going to be the end of him_.  
The thought comes to him unbidden.   
“You didn’t do _anything_ wrong” it’s the truth, but he knows it’s not the answer.  
  
“Then why? I just want to be useful but…you keep…” the emotion behind her words weighs them down with unshed sadness, and Din feel’s its burden like a tangible thing.   
“You _are_ useful, I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to make you think that….”   
He shakes his head and takes an unwitting step towards her, hands opening and closing at his sides reflexively.  
“You _are_ useful” he reiterates more firmly this time, but it doesn’t seem enough. Even to a man of such few words.

“You just got here and already you care for the kid like he’s your own. You care for me like….you are more than useful. I’m…I’m sorry. I want you to stay.” The words tumble from him, tripping over themselves like children cartwheeling down a hill. The nodding of her head is so subtle he almost misses it, and though relief loosens the vice on his chest his mouth still feels dry. 

“After that first week…I thought maybe….”   
“I’m just…not used to accepting help” he plows into her words, trying to keep the momentum of something so difficult to admit.

“I promise to… _try_ to be more communicative from here on out”  
He adds, hoping it’s enough.  
“ _Do, or do not…there is no try_ ” she jokingly retorts cutting through the tension, causing him to pause to suss out if he should be more annoyed or less amused.   
Din takes several steps until he's hovering over her, hands propping up on his hips.  
“With one condition…” the orange tips of his index raising to point at her, his attempt to sound more serious than his blossoming relief is allowing him to feel.

In another moment where indecision becomes resolution he curls his finger towards his palm instead and gently presses his knuckle under her chin, canting her face gently & waiting until she finally makes eye contact again.  
Her expression is steady despite the trail of shed tears that betray her, painting streams on her cheeks like meltwater escaping a glacier. 

“I’m the Hunter….you let me handle that and I _swear_ to trust you with the rest…Deal?” She gazes past her own doppelgänger reflected in the Beskar and glass to meet unnervingly close to where his eyes actually were. Her hand rises and touches down over top his raised wrist, fingers looking delicate over his layers of fabric and leather.

Before he drops his own away from her chin he allows it to hover over where the Vibro had cut her neck. There isn’t so much as a mark to hint at what happened, but when he closes his eyes he can still see the tendrils of blood left over from just after the encounter. His thumb grazes the spot he finds is far too close to the major artery for his liking, so much so he can feel her pulse through the leather of his gloves. 

After another loaded moment with him mulling through her uncharacteristic silence, he rotates his wrist to take her fingers in his and gives 2 quick squeezes before finally pulling away. 

* * *

The echo of boots off the metal floor brush near the exact spot she’d been unconscious only a short many weeks ago. She watches as he climbs the ladder to the cockpit and stays locked in thought while he shuts himself away only a few feet up. 

The sensation of his gloved fingers stays with her, even after the heaviness of the day eases into the equivalent of night. It sits in her chest like a hand squeezing around her heart. A weighted blanket over her lungs that makes them feel constricted, but not in an unwelcome way. 

Not unlike the hold of sleep that eventually pulls her down. Like the grasp of a dream that won’t let you easily go come morning.

And for the first time in 3 weeks and 4 days, Li’ani falls asleep and stays there without a nightmare in sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aurelac: An organism that grows similarly to botanical rhizomes, found on the Green moon of Planet Bakhroma
> 
> Lithops: Succulent with leaves that resemble stones. Also known as the Living Stone
> 
> Toydarian: Sentient winged species of the planet Toydaria. Small with a long snout and webbed feet. 
> 
> Hapan: Humanoid species of the Planet Hapes. Known to have complete night blindness due to the perpetual brightness of their home-world are nearly blind even in dim light. 
> 
> Spice: Group of Illicit substances mined on Kessel. Originally for medicinal purposes, often used recreationally. 
> 
> Yuzzum: Sentient species native to the forest moon of Endor. 
> 
> Spotchka: Luminescent blue alcohol brewed from an organism known as Krill on the planet Sorgan. 
> 
> Di’kut: Mando'a for "someone who forgets to put their pants on". Often translated as the equivalent of "moron" 
> 
> H’nemthe: Bipedal reptilian humanoid species of the planet of the same name, known to have sword-sharp tongues.

**Author's Note:**

> A Gender Neutral Reader Insert version can be found under My Works.


End file.
